Absolutions
by Jamalyn
Summary: Complete Daito-Yamasuke. First loves are not always the best loves (or even the healthiest), but that's no reason not to consider dating another friend, is it? After all, what's life with out a few bumps? Ken and Yamato go to war. :)
1. The Orange Warthog

Disclaimer: I don't own Digimon.

Author's note: This will become a Yamasuke but at the moment it is not. ^_^

****

Absolutions

The Orange Warthog

List of Players:

(in order of their appearance)

Motomiya Daisuke: 21. Attending Tokyo University. Best friend of Inoue Miyako and Ichijouji Ken. Roommate of Takaishi Takeru. Too busy staying uninvolved to wonder why.

Inoue Miyako: 22. Also a student at Tokyo University attending the same College of Management as Motomiya Daisuke. Has a long running rivalry with Daisuke though it is mostly for show, now.

Takaishi Takeru: 21. Yet one more annoyingly jovial student of Tokyo University. Has aspirations of becoming a world famous writer (or at the very least--rich). Dating Yagami Hikari. Brother of Ishida Yamato.

Ichijouji Ken: 22. Employed by the prestigious economic firm of Hiroshi Moishi. Disillusioned by the realities of working life. Generally a very quiet and soft-spoken man.

Ishida Yamato: 26. Ex-musician looking for another career path. Current live-in boyfriend of Yagami Taichi.

****

Other Characters:

(i.e. the non staring roles)

Yagami Taichi: a mutual friend, current (hehehe) boy friend of Yamato

Yagami Hikari: a mutual friend, girlfriend of Takeru

Izumi Koushiro: a mutual friend

Kido Jyou: a mutual friend

****

Chapter 1

"He has all the virtues I dislike and none of the vices I admire." 

- Sir Winston Churchill (1874-1965)

__

Fog. That was his first, and rather blatantly obvious thought. This fog was going to keep him from seeing where he was going. It was already so thick and heavy that with each deep breath he swore he could feel the water in his lungs. It had not been foggy long. That much, he could be sure of, even if he could not be sure of how he knew. He tried again to place himself within his surroundings, all the time, struggling to convince himself that his eyes were indeed open.

Despite this, all he could really be sure of was the pebbly path beneath his feet. He took a few more steps, straining to see, hear or even feel anything. It was not until he had reached the crest of whatever hill or mound he was climbing that he realized that he had somehow gotten to the ocean. The fog had taken on a decidedly salty taste and he could almost hear where the ocean was beating against some nearby rocks. He stumbled a few more steps forward, following the sound as best he could, still looking in vain for some landmark he could use as a point of reference. 

He followed the ocean's sound until it grew much louder and until each step became a hesitant tapping of the foot as he tried to assure himself that he had not suddenly found himself at the cliff's edge and that the pebbly path would not give way underneath him. Suddenly, as if that thought had willed the actuality into existence, his next step met with absolutely no resistance. He scrambled back quickly, his feet slipping slightly on the now wet pebbles and sending him shoulder first into a nearby tree. Rubbing the sore shoulder, he extended the other hand to feel tentatively around the trunk. The tree, that had gone unnoticed as he passed with in a foot of it only a moment before thanks to the thick fog, was deemed sturdy enough. 

He hugged the tree tight, taking comfort in the earthy, mossy smell it exuded as he leaned over to try and see what must have been the spectacular image of the waves crashing against the cliff face. Unfortunately, this too, was obscured by the fog. He fought down a sigh of disappointment as he leaned even further out over the cliff, hoping against hope. No such luck, but before he could try and lean even further, the tree's shallow roots came loose and both he and it began to fall. As he was struggling to come to terms with this new sensation of falling, a movement on the top of the cliff caught his eye. Something, no, scratch that, someone was just watching him fall. 

But why?

"Ouch," Daisuke groaned, rubbing first his head and then his hip, the two places that had taken the most brutal force of his fall, as he stared mutinously up at his bed. He had not fallen off of the bed in his sleep since he was a kid. That must have been one weird dream. He jumped suddenly, putting more strain on his already aching muscles as the alarm burst to life, driving all hopes for more sleep away with it's incessant beeping. Daisuke pulled himself gingerly back on to his bed, slapping at the annoying alarm in the process. Stupid bed, stupid alarm, stupid school, stupid life. What could possibly be wrong with sleeping your life away?

Daisuke jolted as the alarm wrenched him out of his semi-sleep state for the second time that morning. How is it that five minutes in class felt like hours when five minutes spent dozing on your bed could pass in a few seconds, he mused. He could almost swear he heard Ken call out, "Time is relative," in his best didactic voice. They had had this conversation before. Lots of times. Now if only he could work on extinguishing that voice from his mind. Daisuke was bright enough not to hold his breath.

This time he actually remembered to turn off the alarm, rather than just hitting the snooze button, before hurrying out to grab a bite to eat and run to class. As always, Takeru had already long-since left for class, leaving his breakfast dishes to molder on the table. Daisuke scooped them up, using a damp washrag to scrub away the milk ring left by the bottom of Takeru's cereal bowl before depositing the whole mess in the sink. He grabbed the top spiral off of his pile of books beside the door, not even checking if it was the proper one for the class he was going to or not. After all, paper was paper. It was not his fault that Miyako had gone through all the trouble of labeling them for him.

Daisuke hurried out of the apartment complex and jogged the four blocks to the school. Living off campus certainly had its disadvantages. Oh, the things he was willing to put up with for a proper bedroom and a stove. Daisuke did not stop jogging when he came to campus, choosing instead to break into a full out run as he made his way through the crowd of late comers streaming into the various classrooms. He did not slow his pace after he arrived at the management building either. His first professor of the day was a spiteful old man known for locking the door after he arrived. Daisuke was not about to miss class after working this hard to get here.

"Professor Hitoshi," Daisuke said in what he hoped was his most polite voice as he very impolitely slid between said professor and the door with a small smile. He climbed the stairs in twos, hurrying over to his seat next to Miyako after reaching the top row, still huffing and ignoring the amused look she gave him as she tsked her tongue.

"Tell me again why we can't sit up front?" he asked her when he had finally caught his breath a couple of minutes later.

"Somehow I've never pictured you as a front row person. You aren't _that_ good of a student," Miyako whispered back with a smirk. She watched as Daisuke patted each of his pockets, his normal routine for the class.

"Do you have a pen I can bo--" Daisuke broke off, snatching the already out-held pen that had been neatly labeled "Daisuke." That girl must go through tape at a super human pace. "I'm not that _bad_ of a student, either. Besides, I can't see what he's writing from back here. I hate when I can't see what's going on." Something about having said that made Daisuke feel uneasy. It was almost close to a feeling of déjà vu but decidedly more hazy.

"What's the matter?" Miyako asked, concerned when she saw him give a small shudder. Daisuke swallowed a couple of times, brushing off the already passing irrational fear.

"Nothing. Someone just walked over my grave is all," Daisuke grinned.

"That's a really lovely image, Daisuke," Miyako hissed back, rolling her eyes.

"Shh!" a student one row forward turned in her seat to express her displeasure in their continuing conversation. Daisuke choked back a laugh at the look on Miyako's face. There were a few things in life that one just did not do, and one of them was to shush Inoue Miyako.

"What do you need to hear anyway? He's just complaining about the test scores," she spat in the other student's direction. Daisuke laid a calming hand on Miyako's arm to bring her back to him before she said anything else she might regret. "Honestly, who would want to listen to this blow hard?" she asked, turning back to Daisuke. 

"I know, Miya, I know," Daisuke used his most placating tone of voice.

"I mean, the guy's a blasted moron! Hell, I'm brighter then he is," she continued to rant, all in a voice that barely reached above a whisper.

"Um, huh. Any day."

"And Ken. Ken could blow him out of the water."

"Definitely," Daisuke concurred. Miyako stopped complaining long enough to shoot him a confused look.

"What's with you today? You are almost being _pleasant_," she asked slowly. Daisuke flashed her his best smile.

"What can I say, Miya? When you're right, you're right."

Miyako narrowed her eyes at him menacingly. "You had better watch out or I'll tell Ken you were being nice to me." Daisuke just smiled again, using his borrowed pen to scribble down what the professor was saying. He did not even comment when Miyako followed suit.

+++++++++++

"You are coming out with us tonight, right?" Miyako asked as they were packing away their books at the end of class, or in Daisuke's case, closing his notebook.

"Tonight?" Daisuke queried vaguely, trying to place what she was talking about.

"Ken's bachelor party you numbskull!" Miyako replied testily and with a crack to Daisuke's head, "You know, the one that as his best man you were supposed to be planning. All the digidestined are going to be there. Well, except for Iori," she corrected, "His mother wouldn't let him go out of town on a school night."

"Well, I kind of made other plans," Daisuke hedged, wincing at the look on Miyako's face.

"But I'll try!" he quickly added when he saw her take a deep breath to speak.

"Well you had better show or I'll mention to Ken about how strange you've been acting," Miyako threatened much, much to calmly.

"I haven't been acting strange," Daisuke began, her words taking their time at soaking in. Suddenly, he realized what she was actually suggesting, "You wouldn't!"

The last time she had "mentioned" something like this to Ken, Daisuke had found himself on the receiving end of a rather lengthy conversation about life in general. Ken could be very tiring when he was in over-protective mode. Afterwards, Daisuke had made Miyako promise she would never do anything like that again. So far, she had kept her promise, but with no small amount of teasing.

"Besides, it would break his heart if you weren't there," she broke into his thoughts with her soft remark. Daisuke frowned a little, knowing how right she was. Still, he had nothing against making Miyako sweat.

"I'll see you," he called, leaving the classroom with out ever giving her an answer.

+++++++++++

Daisuke busted into the apartment he shared with Takeru, calling out but not receiving an answer. He loved Tuesday's and Thursday's because he had only one class and often beat the blonde home. He dropped the spiral back on to the pile of books and tossed Miyako's pen in a cup that was already half filled with others he had accidentally taken with him at the end of class. Whenever she was running low, Miyako would just follow him home and steal them back. It was a never-ending cycle.

By the time Takeru did make it home, Daisuke had made his way into the kitchen working over something on the stove.

"Tell me again how you get away with taking so few hours?" Takeru asked.

"Work study, my friend, work study," Daisuke reminded him for what had to be the one-hundredth time.

"Is that lunch?" Takeru asked hopefully.

"You left your bowl on the table again this morning," came Daisuke's only answer.

"And you left your socks in the hallway, but you don't hear me complaining."

"But you know how I feel about the kitchen."

__

Hmm, yes, Daisuke's kitchen fetish, Takeru thought with a small smile. The things you learn about a person when you live with them.

"Sorry, I was in a real hurry this morning. I'll remember tomorrow," Takeru promised, still sniffing optimistically at what ever it was Daisuke seemed to be trying to hide from him. Thankfully, at that, Daisuke finally turned with a smile, showing Takeru two plates of noodles and vegetables. Some people withheld sex for favors. With Daisuke, it was food. At the moment Takeru was inclined to think food worked better.

"So are you going to Ken's party tonight?" Daisuke asked as he watched Takeru chow down.

"Hasn't Miyako threatened everyone with death if they shouldn't show?" Takeru answered back by way of question, "Why? You're not thinking of not coming, are you?"

"It's just that I already made other plans. I don't know that I'll be able to make it."

"Yeah right. What other plans? Don't be ridiculous. It'll kill Ken if you blow him off."

"I'm sure Ken would love to know just how fragile everyone thinks he is," Daisuke countered, ignoring the raised eyebrow he received from Takeru. The blonde had only recently learned the trick and used it at every possible moment. The only person who fell for it was Hikari, and Daisuke half-believed she was acting. She certainly would be if she had any idea just how long Takeru had stood in front of the bathroom mirror perfecting the move.

"Yamato's going to be there," Takeru spoke up suddenly, startling Daisuke out of his thoughts, a fact which he quickly hid by becoming absorbed in the project of coating his vegetables with the noodle's sauce.

"Yeah, so?" Daisuke asked casually a few seconds later, taking a slow bite of his lunch as he stared the now chuckling Takeru straight in the eyes, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Come on Dai," Takeru only used Daisuke's nickname when he really wanted to wheedle something out of him, "You know you've been sweet on Yamato for almost as long as you've been sweet on Ken."

"Yeah, and Taichi and Jyou and Koushiro and maybe even you before I discovered what you're really like. Come to think of it, what's to stop us from all coming back here for a mass orgy? No wait. What would we do with the girls?" Daisuke joked coarsely, trying to cover his obvious discomfort with this line of thought.

"Leave them to their own accord?" Takeru suggested with an evil smirk, completely non-nonplused by the turn in the conversation. Daisuke shook his head sadly.

"I shudder to think of what you have become."

"Don't get all high and mighty on me. As I recall, you had a pretty large hand in my corruption," Takeru laughed.

"Your memory is faulty," Daisuke smiled, getting up to rinse off his plate before he began filling the sink with hot, soapy water, "Shut up and eat so I can do the dishes."

+++++++++++

So here he was, barely 8:00 p.m. and Daisuke was already sitting at a bar, nursing his Diet Coke. He had underestimated Miyako, who had called Takeru and told him not to leave the apartment without Daisuke in tow. Ever the good boy, on the outside anyway, Takeru had obeyed her order to a 'T'. That was not to say he was not enjoying himself. On the contrary, he found it quite a bit of fun to watch a rather embarrassed Ken get showered with leis by what was obviously meant to be a hula dancer. Daisuke watched as Ken turned bright red when the dancer came too close on one pass. That boy was way to shy for his own good. Even hanging around with Daisuke and Miyako as long as he had had done little to dent his primary nature.

"I know," Taichi answered Daisuke's gusty sigh, "I would say we should all pitch in and buy him one last wild ride, but he'd probably just sit up talking to 'em all night."

"Shut up, Taichi," Yamato broke in, saving Daisuke from further embarrassing remarks before posing his own question, "Why are the girls here if this is Ken's _bachelor_ party?"

"Miyako planned it all," Daisuke shrugged, watching as said friend shooed away the dancer and began to pull Ken towards the bar.

"He _is_ marrying her after all," Taichi concurred, making his best whip cracking sound in Miyako's direction.

"I heard that, Yagami Taichi!" Miyako called, sending a mock glare in his direction.

"I think that may have been the point," Ken joked, sending a wink over Miyako's shoulder in the general direction of the gossiping boys.

"Don't be upset, Miya," Daisuke offered up comfortingly, "I think you'll make a lovely slave driver." Ken clasped a hand over her mouth before she could come back with a rebuttal, pulling her a few more stools away with a small chuckle. _Score one Motomiya! Albeit with an assist from Ichijouji._

"This is pathetic," Taichi complained, "You're the best man, Daisuke. It's your job to keep things like this from happening."

"Shut up, Taichi," Yamato spoke up for the second time, wrapping his arms around his pouting boyfriend with a smile, only to have Taichi shrug him away a second later.

"Hey! Iz's here," Taichi proclaimed brightly, "Lets go say hi."

"You go on ahead. I'm just going to get a drink," Yamato decided, motioning for Taichi to go on over with his hands, "You want anything?"

"No thanks. I'll be back in a while." Yamato watched Taichi hurry over to meet Koushiro by the door, the two exchanging thwacks on the back, before he turned back to the bartender to order his drink.

"You want anything? My treat," he offered, glancing over at Daisuke. Daisuke held up his recently filled mug of soda by way of response.

"I actually meant something a little stronger than Diet Coke. You are old enough to drink, right."

"Yeah," Daisuke nodded.

"I thought so. So what will it be?" Now both Yamato and the bartender were watching Daisuke.

"Umm," Daisuke tried to remember the name of any drink he might have heard before but was coming up blank. Finally Yamato took pity on him, leaning over to mumble something to the bartender, who then hurried off to fill the short order.

"Don't get out much, eh?"

"I'm just not a big drinker."

"That's a good habit," Yamato nodded briefly, "Of course, we will have to break you of it." The bartender chose that moment to come back with their drinks. Yamato immediately tipped his back, then turned to look at Daisuke how was still peering uncertainly at his own.

"What is it?"

"An orange warthog. Try it. You'll like it. Don't worry, it's not too strong."

"Yeah, right," Daisuke scoffed, giving the drink a second dubious look. Why someone would _want_ to drink something named after a pig was beyond him. Still he raised the glass to his lips and took a sip. Yamato was already calling for his own refill, all the time watching Daisuke's reaction.

"It's not too bad," Daisuke smiled a second later. Actually, it tasted oddly familiar. They sat in companionable silence for quite a time, Daisuke still giving his Diet Coke preferential choice to the orange pig, which Yamato was making sure to keep filled. As it was, Daisuke was already feeling the classic buzz. It wasn't half-bad.

Daisuke left his drinks on the bar, swiveling in his chair to watch the people on the dance floor squirm to the beat of the music. He watched as Takeru did his best to "get down with it" while Hikari stood nearby, her omnipresent small smile gracing her lips as her hips swayed lightly to the music. The things that girl must be willing to put up with. Not that Takeru was such a bad guy. Daisuke gave a small laugh at that little admission. He would have punched the person that suggested as much when they were twelve.

"Is my little brother drunk?" Yamato broke into Daisuke's thoughts, squinting at the figures on the dance floor. Daisuke chuckled again.

"No, he always acts like that."

Yamato made a surprised sort of face, "I'm sorry."

"It's all right. Actually I was just thinking about how he kind of grows on you."

"You're not sweet on Takeru, are you?" Yamato questioned, eyeing Daisuke strangely. Daisuke shook his head in a decisive no.

"Good. 'Cause Takeru's straight as an arrow. Poor fool."

Daisuke could not help but smile about Yamato's take on the situation. To be sure, the musician was quite a bit looser when drunk. As if to prove this point, Yamato wrapped an arm around Daisuke's shoulder, offering him another drink. The two sat in companionable quiet, neither getting any more sober, for the better part of two hours. Every so often, Yamato would offer up some humorous remark and Daisuke would laugh and return the smile that seemed to have permanently affixed itself to Yamato's features. The smile only faltered for the barest second when Yamato's latest story was interrupted by the sound of someone clearing his throat.

"You never made it over," Taichi's voice held a mild rebuke as he slid on to the stool next to Yamato. Koushiro took the next one down, making no comment of his own but shooting a glance towards Yamato's glass. They all watched as everyone on the dance floor paused briefly in the space between on song and the next, quickly resuming their patterns as the beat picked back up.

"Hey, Daisuke," Koushiro greeted once the music was rolling full-force again. Daisuke gave a small smile, fighting to hold back a sigh as Yamato's attention, which had been solely focused on him a moment before returned to Taichi. Daisuke glanced down the bar trying to place the other digidestined while rationalizing his reaction.

__

That's just the alcohol cutting off higher brain functions. I don't really care. Just the alcohol--wait a second that's sounds a lot like a higher brain thought…wicked. I'll have to remember to ask Ken about that. The strange thoughts made Daisuke chuckle, drawing three stares. He gave a small smile in return before turning his gaze to where Jyou had cornered Ken in a far booth and was animatedly trying to explain something or other. _Maybe I should go ask him now. Do us both a favor._

"Yeah, Daisuke and I were just discussing the finer aspects of human sexual relations," Yamato's voice instantly drew Daisuke back into the other conversation, wiping thoughts of escape from his mind. They had been doing nothing of the sort! Yamato was just telling him about the time Takeru had worked up the courage to ask him just how two girls did 'it'. Daisuke blushed bright red at the odd look Koushiro gave him, shaking his head in a rather forlorn hope of convincing him and Taichi that that was not what it sounded like. 

"Well, are you going to stay over here all night?" Taichi eventually asked, brushing off both Yamato's announcement and the hand that he had placed on his thigh. It was difficult to miss the hurt look that flashed through Yamato's eyes.

"Maybe," he shrugged, "I don't know. Do you want to go do something?"

"Never mind. It's getting late," Taichi frowned, standing up to brush the creases out of his shorts before making his way across the room. Yamato's eyes followed him all the way to the men's room door before he turned his attention back to his glass, finishing it in a quick swallow. Koushiro stood up a second later, but not without a small sigh.

"I've got to run, too," he apologized, "Morning classes." Koushiro was the only one of the older Digidestined, other than Jyou, who was still in school. He gave Yamato a pat on the back, though whether it was in friendship or solace, Daisuke could not be sure.

"Taichi's not the most lovey-dovey person, is he?" Daisuke spoke up as they watched Koushiro wave in Ken's direction and leave the bar. It was not until the words were already out that he realized that they might not be appreciated. _Higher brain functions, _his mind sing-songed.

"He has his reasons, okay?" Yamato scowled, focusing all his attention on the bottom of his empty glass. 

"Sorry," he begged, holding up his hands in supplication, "I didn't mean anything by that. It was just something to say." Yamato studied him closely for a moment before giving a small smile.

"Sorry, too. I didn't mean to snap at you." Yamato turned and motioned for another glass, sliding his empty one along the bar towards the bartender, who barely caught it before it slid off the edge, giving Yamato a dirty look in the process. Yamato failed to notice. Still, his ire did not prevent the bartender from filling the order quickly; setting the new glass on the bar before a once more smiling Yamato as he gathered the required bills from where they had been tossed the counter top.

Takeru came up a second later wrapping an arm around Yamato's waist and making a not so subtle sort of waving motion in the direction of the barkeep, whom gave only a slight nod in return.

"Enjoying yourself, Oniichan?" Takeru chirped, adopting the pet name he rarely used for Yamato anymore.

"Well I was," Yamato chided back, though he was still in too good of a mood for the remark to carry too much effect. "I'm a big boy you know. Besides, I got Daisuke to look out for me, haven't I?" Daisuke blushed as Yamato reached over and gave his knee a squeeze.

"Blind leading the blind. Since when did you drink?" Takeru asked, shooting a smile at his roommate.

"I drink," Daisuke answered back a bit indignantly. Funny how the alcohol did not have the same effect on him that it did on Yamato. He would have given anything at the moment to be grinning as effortlessly as his companions.

"We're about to head home. Do you want to come back with Dai and me or do you want us to drop you off at your apartment?" Takeru turned back to his brother, apparently including the remaining digidestined in his universal we. 

"Taichi?" Yamato asked, glancing around the emptying bar.

"He just left," Takeru supplied with a frown.

"That's right, he has soccer practice on Friday mornings."

"Hey," Ken's soft voice drew Daisuke away from the brother's conversation. He had apparently managed to escape from Jyou all by himself. _Ichijouji Ken, super-genius_.

"Hey," he answered back, "Where'd Miya go?"

"She and Hikari have headed back to their apartment. Something about having to study for her management class. _You_ wouldn't happen to know what that's all about, would you?" Ken chuckled.

"I scored three points higher on the test we got back this morning," Daisuke smirked back, finally reaching the point where he could grin. Something about Ken always made him smile.

"That would certainly explain her mood earlier," Ken mused, "Mind if I give you a ride home? There's something I need to ask you to do for me and it'll probably be easier if you're inebriated."

"Sure, baby. I know the perfect little place and it's on the way home to boot."

"Very cute. Come on, Don Juan," Ken smiled, pulling Daisuke off of his barstool. 

Daisuke's knees creaked after having sat there for so long and he was surprised just how much trouble he was having toeing a strait line. 

"I've got Dai," Ken called over his shoulder in Takeru's direction. Daisuke, too, waved back towards Takeru and Yamato but both seemed too deep in conversation to notice. He just shrugged, following Ken out of the bar and into the chilly February night air.

TBC…

Please Review. I do so _love_ reviews!

Author's note: 

****

Orange Warthog*:

Ice cubes 

3 tsp Orange Kool Aid, presweetened 

3 1/2 oz Southern Comfort

12 oz Coca-Cola**

****

Mixing instructions:

Fill glass with ice. Add Kool-Aid powder, Southern Comfort and Coke. Stir well (never shake).

*I once saw this described as, "Real sweet and intoxicating. Sugar in Kool-Aid + caffeine gives initial euphoria, then you crash hard." Hehehe. Yama's e-vile.

**Hence the familiar taste.


	2. Shut Up TK!

Disclaimer: I do not own Digimon…pity.

****

Absolutions

Shut up, TK!

"The only way to get rid of a temptation is to yield to it. "   
~ Oscar Wilde (1854-1900)

Daisuke groaned, rolling over to look at his digital alarm. How did it get to be so late? He distinctly recalled setting the alarm to go off at 9:00 the night before. Or maybe that was two nights ago. Come to think of it, he was not entirely sure of most of his memories from last night. Oh well, it was nearly noon already. There was little point of his dragging himself out of bed to go to class, especially when he felt so sick.

Still squinting his in a hopeless attempt to block out as much morning sunshine as possible, Daisuke noticed that his normally far from immaculate bed was, at this time, much, much worse than normal. It was covered in some sort of fluffy, and apparently very itchy white stuff. He pulled back his covers slowly, being careful not to disturb his haphazard equilibrium. Staring back at him from just beside his pillow was the severed head of some poor child's stuffed horse. Daisuke quickly averted his eyes from the horse's dull button ones. Sitting up slowly, he took the time to brush a few of the larger chunks of stuffing from his sheets before grabbing the horse by the mane and stumbling into the main room.

"Takeru," he began slowly, tossing what was left of the stuffed animal next to the blonde on the couch, "How many times do I have to tell you? Miyako is not allowed in my room when I'm sleeping." He was surprised to hear Takeru's voice come from the kitchen down the hall.

"Sorry. She said it was important. At least I made her promise not to suffocate you before I let her in." Daisuke took a few more steps forward, squinting at the figure on the couch.

"Hello, Yamato," he said a moment later.

"Good morning, sunshine. You don't look so well."

"I don't feel very well, either. I hate you."

"Come on," Yamato smiled, taking his arm gently as he led Daisuke into the kitchen. "You are probably just dehydrated."

"Among other things," Takeru chirped as Daisuke sat down and lay his head on the table.

"Shut up TK." Now it had been close to three years since Daisuke had used Takeru's childhood nickname with any regularity. These days it was generally reserved for moments when he was more aggravated than normal with his cheery roommate. Unfortunately, Takeru could not think of a single instance in his life when he had been genuinely afraid of Daisuke and so the usage of the clipped name had little effect.

"Guess what Dai," Takeru continued undaunted, "Yamato's a free man! You're cleared to move in."

"Shut up TK," Daisuke grumbled yet again, standing up and moving towards the cabinets in the barest attempt to hide his blush. It's not that he had been keeping his little crush on Yamato secret, he just wasn't shouting it from the rooftops, especially with Yamato standing just a few feet away. After digging fruitlessly for a minute or so he turned to Takeru.

"Where's the Tylenol?"

"We're out. But there's some aspirin above the sink."

Daisuke shot Takeru a truly dirty look, "You know I can't stand aspirin. Why didn't you just tell me we were out? I could have picked some up." Yamato's soft snort from the table drew his attention away from strangling his friend.

"If I didn't know better I would swear you two were married," he smiled, "Come here Daisuke, I've got something that will work."

"Aww, that's so sweet," Takeru mocked, "You know Dai, Yamato's going to be crashing on our couch for the next few days. I'm sure he wouldn't mind if you took this as a chance to, ahh, jump his bones." Daisuke closed his eyes for a second, shaking his head from side to side in a gesture of utter confusion and wonder at Takeru's audacious words. _Why? Why are you doing this to me?_

"Let me handle this one, okay?" Yamato cut Daisuke off before he could reply, then turning to his brother he drew slowly, "Takeru? Shut up." Takeru hmmed for a second, considering his options. Yamato's threat--er--request generally carried more weight. He decided to drop the conversation, for the time being anyway. 

"Here," Yamato continued, pulling a bottle out of a nearby duffel bag and dumping a pill on to Daisuke's upturned palm.

"What is it?" he asked, all to well aware of how familiar the words sounded. Yamato must have recognized them as well because he smiled again.

"Aleve. It won't hurt you. I promise," Yamato's smile widened at Daisuke's disbelieving huff. "All you need is one. All day strong, all day long," he quoted.

Daisuke gave him a strange look before going over to the sink to run a glass of water and swallow the pill.

"What?" Yamato asked innocently, "What? I just watch a lot of TV, that's all."

"More reason for you to go out with Daisuke--OW!!" Takeru cried as Yamato's hand connected with the backside of his head, or perhaps it was the other way around. Either way, he was now rubbing the sore spot gently. He should have heeded that warning.

"So tell me," Daisuke asked Yamato, flinching at Takeru's loud cry but still thoroughly amused by seeing him so abused. He accepted a second glass of water that Yamato was offering with a small smile, "I know you had more to drink than I did last night. How is it that you're standing there perfectly all right while I'm about to die?"

"Practice. And you are not about to die. It's called a hang-over and it, too, will pass. Drink." Daisuke rolled his eyes at the cliché remark, obediently taking a sip of liquid before turning his attentions back to the still smarting Takeru.

"Did Ken call?" 

"Yeah. When I said you were still sleeping he gave you a two hour reprieve." At Daisuke's confused look, Takeru clarified, "He says look at your arm." Daisuke pulled up one of his pajama top's sleeves, (Daisuke was willing to bet even money on Ken having put him to bed the night before,) forcing the smeared symbols to form some semblance of meaning.

"It says I promised to go shopping with him. February 13th. At 11 am," Daisuke could not help but smile a bit at the note, so typically Ken, scrawled across his skin. On a hunch, he pulled up the other sleeve, shaking his head when he saw what Ken had written.

"Look at left arm," he announced for his friends who were both watching expectantly. Daisuke glanced up at the clock above the sink. If Ken was really going to be here at 1:00, and knowing his friend, he most definitely would be, Daisuke knew he had better get a move on. Everyone believed Ken to be an absolute sweetheart, but he had proven himself pitiless when it came to Daisuke time and time again. No amount of groaning or moaning was going to get him out of this little chore. Actually, Daisuke noted, he was already starting to feel a little better. Very little, mind you. But any improvement was welcome. He emptied his second glass of water just as Yamato set down a third with a small smile. That boy had a thing with liquid refreshment.

"I'm going to get a shower," Daisuke announced, making no move to take the proffered glass as he stood from the table, "If Ken comes early, just tell him I'll be out soon, okay?"

"Sure," Takeru agreed.

"And put your dirty bowl in the sink," Daisuke grumbled over his shoulder, shuffling out of the room.

+++++++++++

Daisuke was a little surprised that Ken had not arrived by the time he had showered and gotten dressed. After all, it was nearing 12:57. Could this mean Ken was actually going to be on time, rather than early? Wonder of wonders. The first thing Daisuke noticed when he walked into the kitchen was that Takeru and Yamato had relocated elsewhere. The second was Takeru's cereal bowl, still sitting on the far end of the table.

"TAKERU!" Daisuke hollered, ignoring his headache that had yet to completely dissolve. Takeru came skidding into the kitchen a second later.

"What? What is it? I'm trying to get Yamato settled."

"Dirty dishes are rinsed and placed in the sink. Or in extreme instances, washed, dried and put away. Why is that so difficult to learn?"

"Why bother when I know that I'll always have you to pick up after me?" Takeru smirked. Daisuke rubbed his temples a little to relieve the throbbing.

"So, seriously," Takeru continued, reluctantly plucking his bowl from the table before setting it in the sink _sans_ rinsing, "Are you at least going to try for Yamato?"

"It's not like he's some carnival prize. And I would really appreciate it if you didn't say anything else around him."

"Why not? He's completely oblivious. Yamato never thinks anyone likes him."

"Takeru…" Daisuke's voice had taken on a distinctly warning tone.

"Fine. I won't say anything else about you liking him," Takeru promised before mumbling under his breath, "Not today, anyway."

"Thank you," Daisuke breathed, apparently missing Takeru's last statement. He glanced up at the clock. Ken was now a full three minutes late. Daisuke hoped something had not come up.

Just outside the kitchen's door, Yamato frowned. That was not what he was expecting to hear when he had gone to make sure Daisuke did not kill his little brother. He was tempted to just walk in and demand some sort of an explanation, but felt as if he owed Daisuke at least some forewarning. Back-tracking a few quiet steps down the hall, he announced his entrance loud and clear.

"Hey," he called, bringing up something he had been wondering about since he had arrived on their doorstep earlier that morning, "Don't you guys have classes?" They still stood just as they had the few seconds before, but where as Takeru was grinning at his brother, Daisuke now seemed all too interested in the table's wood grain.

"It's Friday. I get out at 10:00 on Fridays," Takeru explained.

"Well I start at 10. Oops," Daisuke shrugged, smiling a little for what had to be the first time that morning, "At least I went Monday and Wednesday."

"Daisuke, really." Now it was Takeru's turn to scold, "For what you have to pay to go to school, you should really put out more effort. It's only your future after all."

"Ignore him," Yamato interjected, nodding his head in his brother's direction, "Takeru has always been a nerd."

"Well, we can't all be rock stars," Takeru answered back good-naturedly, then seeming to focus more closely on Yamato, "What's the matter?" Daisuke, too, turned to scrutinize him.

"I quit the band," he answered reluctantly a moment later, quickly cutting Takeru off as he opened his mouth to reply with an upheld hand, "No. I don't want to talk about it." Takeru's mouth shut with a clash of teeth and the room descended into an uneasy silence. Takeru obviously wanted to ask more, but did not dare. Not for the time being, anyway. Daisuke also wanted to ask, but if it wasn't Takeru's place, then it certainly wasn't his. Thankfully, there came a series of sharp knocks on the apartment door after only a few more long seconds.

"That would be Ken," Daisuke mumbled, leaving to go let him inside. Yamato's mouth twitched in what might have been a partial smile, seemingly happy for the change in focus.

"1:07. I was beginning to worry," Daisuke commented, walking back into the kitchen to gather the keys that hung by the doorframe. Ken glanced up at Daisuke's kitchen clock a second before glancing back down to his wristwatch.

"Your clock is nine minutes fast," Ken assured him, "Are you ready?"

"Yeah," Daisuke made a mental note to turn the clock back, "I guess that one must not have gotten set right after _Miyako_," the way Daisuke emphasized the word made it seem as if Ken were to blame for what ever was following, "set all my clocks forward two hours." Ken's eyebrows rose ever so slightly.

"When was this?"

"About a week ago. She thought it was real funny that I showed up for work two hours early," Daisuke complained. Ken bit his lip to keep a laugh from escaping. Takeru was not quite so polite, sniggering from where he stood leaning against the counter.

"It was funny," he assured Ken, ignoring the dirty look Daisuke shot. Somehow Ken managed to talk Daisuke out of the apartment and into his waiting car before anything else could happen.

"I expected you to be a little worse off this morning," Ken said as soon as they were buckled in and on their way.

"Yamato gave me something," Daisuke shrugged, then noticing Ken's smirk, "Don't. I've already gotten plenty of that from Takeru. You didn't have to work today?" he quickly changed the subject.

"Eh. I called in sick," came the very surprising answer. Daisuke laid an inquisitive hand against Ken's forehead.

"Did I just hear you right? Did a bosses-dream-Ichijouji-Ken lie to get out of going to work?" Ken brushed Daisuke's hand away with a warning growl, his eyes never once leaving the road.

"Hey, hey," Daisuke soothed, "No need to get touchy. It's just not like you. So what's so important that it's worth you blowing off work?"

"We are going to the mall."

"The Mall?" Daisuke's hand found its way back to Ken's head again, "Now I know something is up!"

+++++++++++

Ken had long ago expressed an intense dislike for crowed places, something Tokyo had in abundance, which made his wanting to go to a major mall, on a Friday, over the lunch break seem that much more peculiar. It could only mean that he looking for one thing--anonymity. Which, in turn, could only mean one thing.

Daisuke's worst suspicions were confirmed a couple of seconds later when they stepped up in front of the Victoria's Secret shop.

"So. This is what you made me promise to do last night, when I was _drunk_." Daisuke knew Ken well enough to know that he would take full advantage of just such a situation and Daisuke was not above laying on the guilt. Such things could be very, very useful later when getting something he wanted from his blue-haired friend, like lunch.

Ken did not bother to answer the implied accusation, saying instead, "Get something that Miyako will like." After a second's more hesitation he decided to tack on, "But make sure it's tasteful."

"Gee, care to make it anymore difficult?" Daisuke groused.

"I'll be waiting right out side," Ken promised, completely unflustered by Daisuke's tone.

"Yeah. Thanks," Daisuke gave him a disgruntled look, "I swear. You're a grown man. You're getting married! Don't you think it's about time you got over this fear of women's underwear?"

"It's not like that. It's…" Ken trailed off for a moment, obviously looking for a way to explain his hesitance. "I'll be waiting here," he concluded eventually, "Or maybe just down there," he said motioning towards a hot tub display a little way down the hall.

"Fine," Daisuke mumbled, "Just stay on this end of the mall this time, alright? I don't want to spend the rest of the afternoon searching for you." He sighed again as Ken nodded his agreement, before steeling himself to the one thing that scared him more than anything else in the entire world--buying Miyako lingerie. He turned to walk into the store, only stopping at the last minute to call back to Ken.

"Any color preferences?" Ken shook his head no, doing his best to avoid the strange stares from the various other shoppers. Daisuke suppressed a chuckle. Served him right.

+++++++++++

When Daisuke finally managed to catch back up with Ken he was a good 300 feet past the hot tub display and moving steadily further under the pretense of window-shopping.

"It's done. I've got it," Daisuke informed him, holding the distinctive bag before Ken like it contained some sort of precious contraband. Ken quickly unzipped the black briefcase he always carried, motioning for Daisuke to drop the tissue paper wrapped package inside before he hurried over to the nearest trash can to dump the original sack.

"Wait," Daisuke called him back at the last second, taking the bag away and folding it so he could tuck it under his arm, "I'll take it. Takeru collects them."

"Takeru collects bags from women's lingerie stores?" Ken asked, only some-what disbelieving.

"Not just Victoria's Secret, he collects all bags. You should see it. He has boxes of them in his room."

"Why?"

"I don't know," Daisuke shrugged, "I never actually asked."

Daisuke shrugged again at the strange look Ken gave him, "Hey, we all have our thing."

"I don't have a thing," Ken seemed more than a little offended by Daisuke's insinuation. Not that Daisuke was bothered.

"Evil dictator who tried to take over a world _thing_, not withstanding."

"That was not a thing. That was a phase," Ken hastened to assure him. Daisuke just rolled his eyes.

"Whatever. Semantics."

+++++++++++

By the time he got home, Takeru and Yamato had finished whatever settling they had been doing before and were now engrossed in some inane television comedy. Daisuke was quick to join them, but not before showing Takeru his new present.

"I brought you a bag."

"Oh, hey cool!" Takeru snatched it away, unfolding it and beginning to smooth the creases before taking it back to his bedroom.

"You wouldn't happen to know why he collects those things, would you? Just out of curiosity," Daisuke asked Yamato as they both watched Takeru leave. Yamato smiled a bit.

"No, not really. But it's better than when he was a kid."

"Eh?"

"It used to be empty shampoo bottles." Daisuke laughed as an image of a young Takeru, hoarding his mother's shampoo bottles in some dark corner of his closet or better yet--the bottom drawer of his dresser, began to dance in his mind's eye.

"What's so funny?" Takeru asked, joining them again a second later. Daisuke just motioned vaguely at the television, ignoring the sly look Yamato gave him.

"So will you two be okay alone tonight? No wild parties?" Takeru continued after a moment more. He still wasn't sure what had cracked Daisuke up, but then, he wasn't so sure he wanted to know.

"We'll be fine, Takeru," he brother reassured him.

"Alone?" Daisuke asked at the exact same time, drawing a couple humored stares. Daisuke's scowl assured Takeru that he had not meant that the way it sounded. Still it was all Takeru could do to choke back a laugh.

"I meant, are you going somewhere?" Daisuke clarified a second later, steadfastly refusing to drop either stare, hoping against hope that he might save just a single shred of his dignity.

"Hikari and I decided to celebrate Valentine's Day a little early," Takeru explained, still smiling way too much for such a mundane conversation.

"That's nice," Daisuke responded pleasantly, "Yes. I'm sure we'll be fine. Will you be staying for dinner or are you taking Hikari out?" he asked, standing as made to step towards the kitchen. 

"Umm, no. We're going out for dinner." Daisuke nodded to signify that he had heard but did not pause in his movement towards the kitchen. He stopped only after he was safely inside, sliding the door shut and groaning as he heard Takeru's short laugh finally break through.

+++++++++++

It was more than half and our before anyone dared to venture into Daisuke's little safe haven. In the meantime he had managed to mop, scrub out the sink and start a dinner, and he still wasn't feeling much better.

"Umm, Takeru's leaving now. Do you want any help?" Yamato asked tentatively, sliding the door only half open as he slipped inside.

"No, no, I think I have pretty much got it under control," answered Daisuke, who despite everything still couldn't help the slightly self-depreciating smile that crept on to his face. He looked up a second later, surprised when he heard Yamato laugh.

"You have to admit that was pretty funny," Yamato chuckled. Daisuke just continued to study him until he finally cracked.

"What is it?"

"Nothing. I was just trying to remember if I had ever heard you laugh before."

Yamato cocked an eyebrow at Daisuke's little admission, something, Daisuke noticed, that he was able to do much, much better than his brother.

"So you really _do_ like me?" Yamato finally worked up the courage to ask a second later, not missing the way Daisuke instantly went from stirring to whipping his sauce.

"Yes," Daisuke ground out eventually, "But not enough to keep me from killing Takeru." Yamato grinned, reaching over to stop Daisuke's breakneck mixing before he could completely ruin all his hard work. 

"Don't. Takeru didn't say anything. Well, nothing else anyway. I overheard the two of you talking earlier. It's okay. I think it's cute."

__

Sure, reduce it to 'cute', Daisuke sighed. "Didn't your mother ever tell you it is rude to eavesdrop?"

"I lived with my dad, remember?"

Daisuke just rolled his eyes, starting to slowly swirl his sauce again. "So, since Taichi's not really around anymore…" he began cautiously, building up his courage as best he could before continuing any further. Unfortunately, Yamato had already guessed his line of thought.

"That's sweet and all Daisuke, but…you're not really my type." Yamato padded his words with a gentle rub to Daisuke's head.

"Your type?"

"Yeah. I prefer a guy with a bit more hair," Yamato joked, giving Daisuke's head a more forceful fluffing this time.

"You know, Yamato," Daisuke asked, knocking the invading hand away, "I'm beginning to think you have a hair fetish or something."

"Or something," Yamato concurred with a knowing smile. He stood, watching Daisuke continue to stir for quite some time. He could swear he almost saw the other boy relaxing.

"Finish that sauce, would you?" Daisuke asked eventually, setting his chopsticks to the side before moving to the oven. Yamato smiled, picking up the chopsticks and holding them over the pot.

"Does this mean I'm forgiven?" 

Daisuke rolled his eyes, carefully removing a baking sheet from said oven and poking at its contents. "Just shut up and stir before that scalds." Yamato couldn't help smirking a bit at Daisuke's tone.

"So…" he questioned as he obediently started to slowly blend the simmering sauce, "You don't mind my crashing here, do you? I know Takeru can be real bad about just deciding things on his own." Daisuke just shrugged.

"I really don't mind. In fact, I kind of like the way you keep Takeru in line," he finished with a smile, "After all, how many people can say they've lived with a rock star?"

"Ex-rock star," Yamato corrected.

"Fine. _Ex_. How many people can say that they've lived with an ex-rock star," Daisuke acquiesced, sliding the tray back into the oven before reaching over to up the temperature a couple of notches. "So, why _did_ you…"

"I said I didn't want to talk about it." Yamato reached over to turn the stove back down. "Don't do that. It'll burn." Daisuke frowned.

"I think I know how to cook in my own kitchen," he mumbled turning the stove up again with a pointed look in Yamato's direction.

"It can't be so terrible," Daisuke began after another moment, "Did you have a fight with the band?"

"No. The guys were cool about it. Well, maybe more than a little disappointed, but still pretty cool. I think they're auditioning for a new singer."

"Nice to know you can be so easily replaced," Daisuke joked.

"I didn't say they had found anyone," Yamato grinned back. "But I think they will. They're a really good band. They won't quit just because I got bored."

"Bored?" 

"I thought we weren't talking about this," Yamato ground out.

"That was before you started talking."

"Well, I'm stopping now."

Daisuke mumbled something under his breath, then, with a couple of sniffs, quickly flipped off the oven and jerked out the only some-what scorched salmon patties. Yamato looked them without commenting.

"They taste better this way," Daisuke insisted. Yamato still refrained from comment, but Daisuke could see the responses running through his mind. He really hoped he could continue to restrain himself. 

Finally, Daisuke looked back down on the patties with a sigh. "Yeah, okay. I shouldn't have turned it up," he conceded.

"Well I wasn't going to say anything…" Yamato's face broke out of the temporary funk that had settled on it a moment before as he graced Daisuke with a brilliant smile.

"Thanks," Daisuke grumbled back. It's not like he wasn't a good cook. Someone _was_ distracting him.

"Why don't you serve up the food and I'll get us some drinks," Yamato suggested with an evil grin.

"I don't think so. Why don't you just sit down?" Daisuke quickly flipped the patties onto a nearby plate before hurrying to remove a pair of cups from the far cabinet. He set both the plate and the cups on the table a second later, already making a second loop to grab the salad from the fridge as well as more plates and utensils. Yamato, meanwhile, calmly settled into the closest chair, his grin never faltering.

"Please tell me you don't give Takeru this kind of service. Hikari's going to kill you," he joked. Daisuke just shrugged.

"Your brother's useless. If I didn't feed him, he would starve. I'm sure Hikari appreciates that aspect of our little arrangement."

"True. True. So, tell me why you're free to cook me dinner. I can think of plenty of guys that would love to catch someone as cute as you." Yamato took a bite of food before tacking on, "And who cooks okay."

"_Okay_?" Daisuke asked, pretending to be shocked at what was at best a mediocre complement.

"Oh alright, very well," Yamato admitted, "Why no boyfriend?"

Daisuke shrugged, "I guess between work and school I just haven't found the time."

"Nobody has the time today," Yamato shook his head, "What's your real reason?"

Daisuke did not respond to the question, instead asking, "What happened between you and Taichi." Yamato seemed a little taken aback by the sudden change in conversation.

"That is definitely none of your business."

"You're the one who brought up boyfriends," Daisuke explained, all too innocently, "I thought perhaps you wanted to talk about it."

"Well I don't," Yamato insisted, then contradicting himself a second later, "Taichi and I are complicated." 

"How so?" Daisuke asked gently when Yamato failed to continue after a moment, not wanting to startle the blonde back into silence.

"Sometimes I think we're perfect for each other, and then sometimes I'm not so sure. I mean, we were--are--best friends, maybe even closer, and when it came out that we both, well, swung that way, it just seemed to make sense. To be perfectly honest, there's never been much more to it than that. Of course, I was convinced I was absolutely in love with him for the longest."

They sat in silence for a long while, giving each other a chance to absorb that long and very unexpected spill.

"You don't love Taichi, now?" Daisuke asked, breaking that silence several minutes later.

"No. I'll always love Taichi. I just don't know if it's the kind of love that works well in relationships," Yamato admitted softly. Daisuke suddenly realized that neither of them had taken a bite since he first brought up the subject. Somehow he did not see the atmosphere getting any lighter with out some sort of alternative stimulation.

"I'm tired of being cooped up in this kitchen. You want to go eat in front of the television?" Daisuke asked, already picking up his plate and glass and shooting a very significant look at the now morose Yamato. Yamato smiled, glad for the distraction Daisuke was offering.

"Okay. But I get to choose what we watch 'cause I'm the guest!"

"No. It's my house, my choice."

"I'll tell Takeru you were rude to me," Yamato threatened.

"Fine," Daisuke rolled his eyes, sliding the kitchen door open with his hip before motioning Yamato through, "your choice. But only because your brother scares me. And, nothing sappy. I want at least one car crash or major explosion, got that?"

"Yeah, yeah. Manly man," Yamato mocked. He let out a disbelieving snort, when flipping on the set, his ears were immediately assaulted by the theme music to _Robin Hood: Men in Tights_:

"We're men, MANLY men, we're men in tights. Yeah!  
We roam around the forest looking for fights. 

"And that would be irony…" Yamato mumbled, sitting down on the couch and patting the cushion next to him. Daisuke still seemed a little dumbfounded by the coincidence, moving to take his seat more slowly.

"That's. Just. Freaky."

"Do you want me to find something else?" Yamato asked, though he had no intention of doing any such thing. He rather enjoyed this movie.

"No, no this is fine." Daisuke took his seat a second later, pulling his plate over to his lap, "That was weird though."

+++++++++++

Daisuke woke up the next morning feeling surprisingly well rested considering the fact that he had slept in his clothes. At least the person who had put him to bed had taken the time to brush away the stuffing Miyako's _gift_ had left the day before. If he was not careful, being unable to make it to bed without assistance would become a habit.

"Daisuke!" Takeru's shrill call was all it took to knock Daisuke out of whatever thoughts of sleep he still had. He stumbled over to the door and swung it open before calling back.

"What is it?"

"Do you have to work this morning?" Takeru's screams seemed to be coming from the laundry room at the end of the hall.

"Yeah. What time is it?"

"It's almost 8:00."

Just then Daisuke caught a glimpse of a very disgruntled Yamato slowly sitting up from the couch. "Can't you two talk in the same room?" He grumbled, trying in vain to smooth down his hair.

"Thanks!" Daisuke called back down the hall to Takeru before turning back to Yamato. "Good morning, sunshine. You don't look so good," he joked. Yamato didn't think that was quite as funny as Daisuke, and Daisuke was bright enough to disappear back into his room before Yamato could reply. By they time he came out dressed for work nearly 15 minutes later, Yamato, himself, had disappeared.

"What time do you get off today?" Takeru asked, following Daisuke to the kitchen.

"Umm, 2:00. But I probably won't make it home until 3:00."

"Going somewhere afterwards?"

"No, but we'll be really busy, seeing as how it's valentine's and all. Why?" Daisuke asked.

"I just wanted you to take Yamato out."

"Takeru…"

"No, no, no," Takeuru hastened to assure him, "It's just that I don't think it's a good idea for him to just be sitting around tonight, you know, wallowing. That's not to say coming home to find the two of you snuggled up on the couch wasn't cute."

"Hikari's coming over?" Daisuke asked, not bothering to dignify that last statement with a response.

"Yes."

"Figures. Where's Yamato?" 

"In the shower."

"And that explains why you're willing to bring this up now," Daisuke groused, "I've got to go to work." He grabbed his keys and a cereal bar before hurrying towards the front door.

"If it makes you feel better, I'd be glad not to have you here wallowing either," Takeru called after him.

"It doesn't!"

+++++++++++

Daisuke opened the apartment door, checking his watch at the same time. 2:45. He was doing well. The restaurant had not been nearly as busy as he had expected. No doubt business was going to pick up later tonight.

"Honey, I'm home," he sing-songed out into the hallway.

"Sweetheart!" Takeru chimed leaning out the living room door long enough to blow Daisuke a kiss. Yamato sat on the couch, shaking his head in an odd sort of bewilderment.

"You two are weird."

"Thanks," Takeru told his brother, then turning to Daisuke, "Can you come in here for a second. I want to talk to both of you." Daisuke just sighed, feeling for all the world like a kid being called to the carpet.

"Sit," Takeru intoned, pushing Daisuke down on the couch beside Yamato.

"Now," he began, "My heart goes out to you two dateless souls on this Valentine's Day, but the fact remains that _I_ have a date and she's going to be here in a little more than four hours."

"I thought you went out last night," Yamato interjected.

"We did. And tonight we're staying in. And you are not."

"You are actually kicking me out of my own apartment?" Daisuke asked, disbelieving.

"Hey, if he's kicking out his homeless brother, I don't see what's so surprising about you getting the boot," Yamato shrugged.

"_I_ pay rent."

"That's a good point," Yamato agreed, then turning to Takeru as he hooked a thumb at Daisuke, "_He _pays rent."

"Which is why I got the two of you tickets to the university's production of _La bohème_. Consider it a form of restitution. Now, the actual opera starts at 7:30 but you can go in at 7:00 and listen to the director explain some of the basic ideas behind and the history of the show. I've signed you up for that as well. Which means you need to be out of this apartment by 6:30 so you can get there by 6:45.

"So you're not only making us go to the opera, you're making us go to a class about it first? What did we do to you?" Daisuke pleaded.

"You always yell at me about my cereal bowl," Takeru explained, pointing at Daisuke and then, rounding on his brother, "And I won't even mention who told mom I painted the cat."

"That old thing again? Haven't I been punished enough?" Yamato mumbled.

"And even though this is a school production, you both need to dress nice. That means use an iron, Daisuke," Takeru continued, completely ignoring his brother.

"Oh!" Takeru finally exploded when they both continued to sulk, "Would you two stop whining? Do you know how many couples would love to get these tickets? I'll have you know I had to pull some major strings!" 

"I am **not** dating Daisuke." Yamato finally broke their terse silence. Takeru just rolled his eyes.

"I never said you were," he replied patiently.

"You just said we were a couple," Yamato argued back.

"As in a couple of people. You are a human Yamato."

"Fine. But we are in no way a couple, couple."

"Gee, this conversation is doing wonders for my self esteem," Daisuke cut in sarcastically.

"Sorry, Daisuke," Yamato apologized, "It's just that Takeru gets these little ideas and it's best to nip them in the bud before they have a chance to mutate into something horrible and indestructible." Takeru rolled his eyes again, shooting his brother a truly dirty look.

"Well, if we're all done insulting each other, here are your tickets," he shoved the two blue tickets under their noses.

"We never said we were going anywhere," Yamato insisted.

"Look," Takeru seemed to be coming to the end of his rope, "Either go to the opera or sit outside in the cold. I don't care. But you are not staying here. You will leave by 6:30 and you will not be back until 11:00. Have. I. Made. Myself. Clear?"

"Fine. We're going," Daisuke conceded for the both of them, then shooting Yamato a look out of the corners of his eyes, "I guess this means we are going out tonight."

"Yes."

"And it is in no way a date, nor are we, in any shape or form, a couple."

"That's right."

"Tell me why we just agreed to this?"

"Because my brother's a selfish bastard?"

"That explains why we're doing it, but not why we agreed."

Yamato considered the statement for a moment before shaking his head. "Daisuke, that doesn't make any sense."

"I know that. But frankly, I'd rather not admit I let Takeru talk me into anything."

"Ditto, my friend, Ditto," Yamato sighed, a second before they both started laughing.

"That's it! They've gone off the deep end!" Takeru exclaimed to an apparently invisible companion, only increasing the boys' laughter. "I give up. I'm the only normal one here," he walked out of the room, shaking his head sadly.

+++++++++++

Daisuke peaked in and out of each tiny room in the apartment, looking for Takeru, finally catching up with him in the kitchen.

"Does this match?" Daisuke asked, holding out his tie.

"Hmm, wh--oh yeah, that looks nice Daisuke," Takeru answered back, obviously distracted by the refrigerator.

"Do you want me to whip something up for you two before we leave?" Daisuke offered, taking pity on his friend.

"I can just see it now," Yamato teased, joining them in the kitchen and holding up his own tie for Takeru's approval, "_Oh, Hikari, I love you. And to show you how much, just look at this wonderful dinner Daisuke made us_."

"I really don't understand what you see in him," Takeru informed a bewildered Daisuke.

"I really don't know why I'm the one getting picked on," Daisuke admitted.

"It's not my fault I can't cook," Takeru explained, giving Daisuke a comforting pat on the back, "I've asked Daisuke to teach me, but he refuses. He won't even let me do the grocery shopping."

"It would be impossible to teach someone who thinks spray cheese is food to cook. And, the one time I let you grocery shop all we got were frozen pizzas and a bag of apples. And," Daisuke turned his attention to Yamato, "I'm pretty sure that was just so he could toss the bag on the table and ask, 'How do you like _them_ apples?'"

"It's from a movie."

"We know that, Takeru."

"My apples were good!" Takeru insisted.

Daisuke just shook his head. "They were mealy."

" I am not _that_ useless in a kitchen. I'll have you know I got along just fine before you got here."

"Microwaving instant ramen does not constitute cooking, Takeru," Yamato answered, giving his brother's head an affectionate rub, "I think I'm going to have to agree with Daisuke on this one." The phone chose that particular moment to ring. Both Takeru and Daisuke jumped for it at the same time, but Takeru got there first.

"Okasaki pencil factory. Get to the point."

"That's not funny," Daisuke grumbled under his breath. Yamato gave him a sympathetic smile.

"Well I don't think he wants to talk to you," Takeru's rather short reply instantly drew Yamato's attention back to the phone conversation and left no doubt in anyone's mind as to whom was calling. He motioned for Takeru to hand him the phone. Takeru shook his head no, turning his back on his brother in the process and apparently all too interested in what ever it was Taichi was saying.

Yamato, never one to blindly obey, (not his little brother, anyway), reached over and literally pried the phone out of Takeru's fingers.

"Hey Taichi. Yeah, sorry about that. You know how over protective Takeru can get," Yamato explained, shooting Takeru an ugly look in the process.

"I'm not the big jerk," Takeru mumbled, rubbing his fingers and earning himself an even uglier look. 

"Mmmhmm," Yamato mumbled an agreement to what ever it was Taichi was saying on the other end every once and a while. Both Daisuke and Takeru stayed in the kitchen, shamelessly trying to follow the conversation from the snippets they could catch. "Mmmhmm. No. It wasn't stupid. It's just as much my fault. These things happen."

Takeru let out a terribly inelegant snort at that. Yamato turned to wave them out of the room just before something Taichi said brought back his full attention.

"Yeah, sure! Oh, hey, wait a second. I can't. I've already made other plans."

Daisuke held back a sigh, snapping to draw Yamato's attention before nodding towards the phone and mouthing, "Go on."

Yamato cupped a hand over the receiver so he could whisper, "Thanks, Dai," in return. Daisuke smiled at him, grabbing the arm of a still rather disgruntled Takeru and bodily dragging him from the kitchen.

+++++++++++ 

"So I guess this means you _do_ have a valentine's date," Daisuke smiled when Yamato exited the kitchen some time later.

"Yeah, I guess so," Yamato replied softly, "Well, I'd better finish getting ready." He started down the hall towards Takeru's room where his suitcases were now spread across the floor before stopping to call back over his shoulder, "And Dai?" Daisuke looked up to show that he was listening. "Thanks. Really. You're a great friend." 

Daisuke just smiled and nodded.

+++++++++++

to be continued…

AN: Fooled ya with the quote, didn't I? Didn't I !?! What? You skipped that part? Oh well. ^_^ Will Daisuke get another chance to (not-date) date Yamato? Perhaps next time…_perhaps…_


	3. Friendship Sucks

Disclaimer: I don't own digimon.

Author's notes: Believe it or not…I have not died…I've just been taking an extended holiday…yeah.  

And I've gone over and over the whole Yamato and Daisuke scene a hundred and one times.  I still don't really like it…but it's as good as I'm going to get it, and I can live with that. ^_^

**Absolutions**

**Friendship Sucks!!**

"If I were two-faced, would I be wearing this one?"     ~ Abraham Lincoln (1809-1865)

"There are only two tragedies in life: one is not getting what one wants, and the other is getting it. "       ~ Oscar Wilde (1854-1900)

_Now this was familiar.  He had definitely been here before.  But when?  And where was here? He felt as if all he had to do was close his eyes and it would come to him, but failed each time he tried.  Maybe he only believed he had been here before.  "No, no, I remember it all too well," he thought, kneeling down to run his hand along the pebbles and through the still wet grass.  It had rained recently, or…_

_"That's it!" he thought, standing back up to look around him.  He had been here before, but it had been so very misty he could barely see.  But that had been a dream, right?  Did that mean that this too was a dream?  How could a dream seem so real?  This had to be some reality remembered in a dream._

_This place was beautiful, truly, but there was something odd about it.  Something he could not place his fingers on just yet.  Perhaps there were some small differences in the trees, or was it the flowers?  Something was telling him this was not Japan, or the digital world for that matter.  He started up the narrow pathway, having remembered the way he traveled before._

_It did not take long for him to reach the crest of the hill.  He listened carefully, trying to hear the waves from his dreams.  Sure enough, there they were.  His eyes followed the path all the way down to the point where it was abruptly cut off by the cliff. "Yes, I remember," he thought to himself, "I couldn't see.  I couldn't see through all the fog.  But maybe now that the fog is gone…" He could not deny the way his pulse quickened at the thought.  Now he had a chance.  It was foolish to have tried before.  Who could have seen all the way down the face of a cliff when they could not even see their own hand in front of their face?_

_It was only as he began to hurry towards the edge of the cliff that he noticed the man.  This man stood a few paces to the left of the path, wearing could best be described as a brown derby, the rest of his clothes matching the distinctive style, to give a picture not unlike what could be found in any classic story book.  He briefly wondered if the man had been there before, then decided that that was most likely true.  After all, he had walked much closer to that tree the last time, failing to notice it in the heavy fog.  He stepped closer to the man, calling out greetings in as many ways as he knew how, all failing to elicit a response._

_"Are you real?" he asked, coming close enough to poke at the man's arm, "Or are you just another figment of my imagination.  Come on; let me have a look-see.  Perhaps I know you."  He pulled on the man's arm, trying to get him to turn and look towards him but failing to produce any results.  The man just continued to stare out over the cliff._

_"Fine you stay there and I'll move," he joked, moving to stand in front of the man, "Don't mind me.  I'll only be blocking your view for a second, promise." He gasped, shocked at the strange form before him._

_He could see nothing of the face, no expression, but he could feel the man's unhappiness.  It seemed to come at him full force, as if everything that could hide it had been removed.  He continued to stare at the blank face trying to draw something, anything into focus.  But it was not out of focus; it simply was not there.  He turned his own eyes away, back towards the cliff, nearly missing the flash of color that appeared momentarily on the man's face._

_"What was that?  Do you have blue eyes?" he thought, just before voicing the same questions aloud.  "What a silly idea," he mocked himself when the man offered no reply.  How could a man with no eyes have an eye color?  For that matter, how could a man with no mouth reply?_

_He stepped away from the man and back onto the path, refusing to admit even to himself that the image frightened him.  He scurried the few feet remaining to his original destination. The path did indeed end sharply.  He looked around for something he could cling to, his eyes landing on the knotted tree with a dirty look.  "I definitely remember you."  Maybe that's what the dream was--a warning.  Don't trust trees.  _

_Deciding to forgo the tree, he got down on his knees, carefully leaning out over the face of the cliff before giving a disappointed groan.  The mist may have receded from the top of the cliff but it still clung tightly down below.  He hung one arm down; swiping at the fog as if the slight breeze he created would cause it to dissolve.  Childish to be sure, but something his was willing to try.  Not surprisingly, it did not work.  He sighed, pulling back for a second to sit on his heels and think.  He failed to notice the little sounds of the cliff crumbling until they became a roar, muting the crash of the waves, as the ground supporting him caved forward and he began to fall._

_He was surprised to see that the man had rushed to the side of the cliff, holding out a hand that he had no hope of reaching as he continued to fall further and further away. He gave a bitter little chuckle.  Sure now, he won't come when I call, only when I don't.  But still…_

_Give the man an A for effort._

_He followed the man's movements until the mist obliterated his view._

_No, on second thought, screw it.  Failure is failure._

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

Daisuke jumped, impulsively slapping at the top of his alarm as it jerked him out of his sleep, before scrambling to find his class schedule.  _Today is…today is… He grabbed his watch from the bedside table to check the date…__Sunday.  Today is Sunday.  Then why did I set my alarm?  Daisuke fell back on to his bed with a thump.  _

"Daisuke?  Are you awake?" Takeru's voice chased away the hopes for any more sleep on this particular morning. He walked in a second later with out so much as a knock.  "Daisuke?  I heard you alarm go off…"

"I'm awake," Daisuke grunted, not failing to pick up the worried tone in Takeru's voice, "What's going on?"

"Nothing." The veracity of Takeru's short statement was belied not a full second later by a deep sigh.  "Yamato didn't come home last night."

"He made up with Taichi," Daisuke shrugged, "He's probably at their place."

"I know.  I just worry.  The least he could do is call."

"So you can give him a hard time?" Daisuke flinched at Takeru's hurt look, sitting up give his friend a light hug.  "Look.  It's only…" Daisuke glanced towards his alarm, "9:03.  He probably isn't even awake yet."

"Yeah…" Takeru still did not seem satisfied with that answer.  It was difficult seeing the normally bright eyed and bushy tailed Takeru so down.  Daisuke smiled, swinging his legs out of bed as he had a second thought.  There was one thing he knew that would always cheer Takeru up.  
  


"Come on.  Since I'm awake, I might as well fix a real breakfast.  All that cereal you eat _can't be healthy."  __Food.  The common cure-all.  Daisuke laughed a bit at the way Takeru's face instantly brightened._

"Thanks, Daisuke."

"No problem.  But next time?  Knock.  For all you knew, I could have been having mind-blowing sex."

"Nah," Takeru brushed off his statement with little concern, "Yamato never puts out on the first date."

+++++++++++

Daisuke was proud of himself.  He only burnt Takeru's eggs a little for that Yamato remark, and completely by accident, of course.  Meanwhile Takeru had filled his time by setting the table and pouring them both some apple juice.  Daisuke was just beginning to scrape the first set of eggs on a plate as the phone rang.

"Moshimoshi," Takeru answered with out giving either of their names.  At least it wasn't that horrible pun.  "Oh hi Yamato.  No we weren't worried.  You're a big boy after all."  Daisuke had to fight to hold back his snort, focusing instead on cracking the next set of eggs into the waiting pan.

"Sure.  When?  This afternoon?" Takeru continued, "No…It's okay.  I just won't be here. … Yeah, I could have sworn I told you. …  Must have been Daisuke. … Okay. … No, of course I'm not upset.  I trust you to make your own decisions. … No.  I _am being serious.  Daisuke--" Takeru kicked the cabinet door to draw his attention.  "Daisuke.  Tell Yamato how happy I am that he and Taichi have worked things out," he asked, far to pleasantly and with a sort of do-it-or-die grimace on his face.  Takeru held the phone out towards Daisuke so that Yamato could hear his answer._

"Yeah, happy," Daisuke agreed, then shooting a smirk in Takeru's direction, "Your grin has just about split _both your faces."  Takeru snatched the phone back, burying the receiver in his chest, but not before Yamato heard it all._

"Daisuke!" he hissed.  Daisuke was not bothered.  He shrugged before returning to his scrambled eggs.  After another minute of mundane conversation that mostly consisted of Takeru going, "Sure," and "Yeah," the brothers said their good byes and hung up.

"My brother the slut," Takeru sighed, sitting down at the kitchen table, "He'd do anything to get some from his precious Taichi."

"Not over breakfast, if you don't mind," Daisuke chided setting Takeru's plate in front of him before turning back to the stove to fix his own.

"Mmm, black and crispy.  Just how I like 'em."

Daisuke did his best to ignore the sarcastic remark saying instead, "I _can do better with some incentive.  And before you ask--being picked on before I'm even fully awake does not count."  He set a plate full of perfectly fluffy, creamy yellow eggs before his chair._

"The Yamato/sex remark?" Takeru questioned, giving his eggs a poke and shooting the cabinet that contained the cereal a wistful look.  "Sorry about that Daisuke.  It's just…well…you two really _would make a cute couple," he disregarded the dark look Daisuke sent in his direction, "I know that Yamato can be a little hardheaded when it comes to this kind of thing.  But don't worry.  I won't give up, and I won't let you.  We'll bring him around."_

"Oh, thanks," Daisuke rolled his eyes, "I'm just worried he'll hate me before you're through."

"Ah-HAH!" Takeru exclaimed suddenly, pointing a finger in Daisuke's direction, "I _knew it!  You really do like him."  Daisuke ground his teeth at his friend's excitement._

"Old news."

"Yeah, maybe so, but two days ago you wouldn't have cared if he hated you."

"Of course I would have.  He's my friend too, you know."

"Yeah, okay.  You might have cared a _little_ before, but nothing like you do now," Takeru flashed him a self assured smile that slowly began to morph into something akin to shock.  "You _wanted to go out with him last night.  Admit it!  You were going to put your moves on."_

"Shut up TK."

"Oh my god, this is just great," Takeru giggled, "I'll help.  I can tell you all about him…where he likes to go, his favorite color--its blue.  No.  Wait, that's mine.  His is green.  He's not really into cutesy stuff, but he _is a real romantic deep down.  Flowers, that sort of thing.  I'm sure you follow."_

Actually, he didn't.  Daisuke had started blocking out Takeru's fangirlish gushing somewhere around the favorite color debate and was now focusing his entire attention on putting just the right amount of ketchup on his eggs.  With that task finished he ate, still focusing on anything other than Takeru's inane chatter.  _Scoop and bite and chew and chew.  Scoop and bite and chew and chew.  My, what lovely linoleum we have.  I wonder when they put that down.  I wonder just how many people have eaten eggs in this very kitchen.  Hmmm.  Scoop and bite and chew and chew.  Oops!  All done._

"I'm going to run over to Miya's and then the grocery store," Daisuke interrupted Takeru's still continuing monologue, "Is there anything you want me to pick up?"

"Were you even listening to a word I was saying?"

"No.  I have better things to do than listen you talk about your brother.  Is there anything you need?" Daisuke repeated himself.

Takeru gave Daisuke his version of the knowing-eyebrow-lift, "I don't know whom you think you are fooling," he said haughtily.  Daisuke could not help himself.  He laughed out loud.

"Don't do that. You look like a chipmunk," he teased, immediately regretting it when he saw the hurt look on Takeru's face.  "I didn't mean it like that Takeru. … Um, I really need to go.  See you this afternoon?"

"Yeah, okay," Takeru answered, though Daisuke could easily see he was still hurt, "But don't forget I have that seminar for my writing course this afternoon.  We'll probably go out afterwards so I'll be late getting home.  I did tell you about that, didn't I?" he questioned, obviously trying to work something out.

"That's right.  Yeah," Daisuke was willing to lie for Yamato, "I'll see you tonight then," he promised, rinsing his plate before depositing it in the sink, "And Takeru?  That eyebrow thing--it's cute.  In fact, when you do it, you're almost as cute as Yamato."  After all if he could lie for one brother, he could do it for the other.  This seemed to brighten up Takeru somewhat, so much so that he started that god-awful knowing wiggle again.  Daisuke was wise enough to know that he had just bought himself no end to his torment, but at least Takeru was feeling better.

"Okay.  We can talk more about how you're going to seduce Yamato."

"Shut up TK."

+++++++++++

Daisuke thought about what Takeru had said as he walked to Miyako and Hikari's apartment.  They lived only six blocks away, a pretty good distance, but not far enough that he could justify taking the bus.  At least it gave him time to think.  As absolutely horrifying as the thought sounded, Takeru really was right.  He _had been looking forward to going out with Yamato, even if it wasn't a real date.  It would have been nice to have someone with him.  There's just something about going to the opera, all by yourself, on Valentine's Day that made you feel pathetic.  That, and Takeru's "strings" had been the music program dean, a man much too interested in Takeru and his latest goings-on.  Daisuke had been half tempted to let it drop that Takeru was seeing someone already--__a girl.  He hadn't, but he had listened to the man gush about Takeru's novel at all three intermissions._

Daisuke was all to well aquatinted with Takeru's _novel (Takeru was actually in the middle of negotiations with a local network to have it made into a children's television show).  All it consisted of was a collection of stories that he claimed were loosely based on their adventures in the digital world._

_Loosely my ass, Daisuke thought with a sarcastic little grin.  Takeru was ripping off all of his best lines.  Of course when Daisuke had pointed that fact out, Takeru answered him with __his faulty memory line. _

He was still laughing softly to himself when Hikari opened their door.

"Morning Daisuke."

"Hey Hikari," he grinned back, "Is Miya home?"

"Yeah, hang on a second."  She called over her shoulder for Miyako before moving aside so that Daisuke could step into the apartment.  "By the way Daisuke, thanks for letting Takeru and I have the place to ourselves last night.  That was really nice."

"Not a problem," he answered genially.

"So where'd you end up going?"  Daisuke smiled again at her question.  Apparently Takeru had left out the part where he all but physically threw Daisuke and Yamato out of the apartment.

"I--"

"He was picked by the military for a secrete mission to mars," Miyako cut in with a grin, still towel drying her hair after her morning shower.

"Used that one too much, have I?"

"Maybe once or twice.  What brings you to my doorstep this early Sunday morn?"

"I came to return your kind gift," Daisuke held out a zip-lock baggy into which he had crammed the horse head and all the stuffing he could find.  The image was, at best, grotesque, "I simply can not accept."

"See if I ever buy you anything ever again," Miyako groused, the sparkle in her eyes voiding her dark tone.

"So…What did you and Takeru end up doing for dinner?" Daisuke turned his attention back to Hikari, but not before sticking out his tongue in Miyako's direction.

"He ordered a pizza."

"How romantic," Miyako teased.

"Well, he _did let me pick the toppings."_

"You let Takeru get away with too much.  You really need to keep that boy on a shorter leash," Miyako joked, hurling the horse head in Daisuke's direction when he rolled his eyes.

"Not everyone likes to keep their boyfriend in chains Miya," Daisuke snatched the flying baggie in mid air, sending it back at her almost immediately. 

"I only do it 'cause Ken likes it so much."

"Ew! Stop it.  He's my best friend.  I can live with out those kinds of mental images!"

"Hush Daisuke, you brought it up," Miyako brushed off his distaste, "Speaking of…I really liked what you picked out."

"Argh!"  Daisuke plugged his ears with his fingers and began to hum loudly.

"Be nice Miya," Hikari admonished.

"You said you were going to work with him about that," Daisuke accused, removing his fingers only when he had decided it was safe.

"I have been!  At least he doesn't call them the untouchables anymore."

Daisuke let out a snort.  "Well, sure. That helps you, but I fail to see how it helps me."

"These things take time, Daisuke," Miyako soothed.  She waited until he was nodding calmly again before adding, "But next time, get something green or blue.  I'm sick to death of red."

"ARGH!"

+++++++++++

_I wish I had a car.  It was a fantasy Daisuke often let himself enjoy, especially at times like these, when he had two arms full of groceries and no hope of reaching his keys with out dropping at least half of them.  Oh to be able to grocery shop like a normal person, then carry his goods up to his apartment a bag or two at a time while the rest waited patiently in his back seat for their turn._

"Need a hand?"  The sudden offer nearly startled Daisuke out of his wits.

"Oh, it's you Yama," Daisuke let out a relieved sigh, "Yeah, here.  Hold these for a second while I get my keys."  He allowed the bags on his left arm to slide off and into Yamato's waiting hands.

"Yama?"

Daisuke nearly choked when he realized his slip.  "Sorry.  I didn't mean to call you that," he mumbled, doing his best to force the door open as quickly as possible so he could stumble inside and hide under his bed.  Finally it opened and he hurried indoors.

"Daisuke, it's okay.  It's just that no one really calls me that, well, except for Taichi," Yamato explained, following him inside, "And even he never calls me that in public."  Daisuke blushed even more as he picked up on the deeper implications.

"I came to pick up my stuff," Yamato explained when it became obvious that Daisuke was not going to respond.  Daisuke nodded and began emptying the grocery bags that now sat in the middle of the kitchen table before remembering Takeru's last words to him that morning.

"Takeru's not here.  He won't be back 'till tonight."  The words were out of his mouth before Daisuke even had a chance to think about them.  He was not surprised when Yamato began to smirk.  _Maybe he doesn't know that I know that he knows.  Maybe…_

"Yeah, I was kind of counting on that."  

_…And Yamato is clueless.  There is a god._

"But you knew that didn't you."

_And he hates me.  God hates Me.  Daisuke shrugged, not wanting to open his mouth again lest he make another stupid remark--something that was made very difficult since Yamato kept pick up groceries and asking where they went.  _

"I can handle this," Daisuke finally risked speaking, "You can go get your stuff."

"Ready to get rid of me?"

"I didn't mean it like that."  Frustration did not begin to describe what Daisuke felt at the moment.  Yamato, however, was having much more fun.

"I know.  I just like watching you get so flustered."

Daisuke mumbled something under his breath that Yamato did not ask him to clarify.  It probably wasn't very flattering anyway.

"You're cute when you're angry," Yamato smiled.  Daisuke tossed the Tylenol above the sink with a grunt.

"Oh Daisuke.  Don't be mad at me.  I promise I won't pick on you any more," Yamato finally conceded; earning him a true, if small, smile.  

"You learn so much quicker than your brother," Daisuke complemented, making Yamato chuckle.

"Did you go to the opera last night like Takeru wanted?"

"Yeah.  It was actually pretty good.  Kind of corny in places, but pretty good.  I think the Dean of music has a thing for your brother though."

"It's the blue eyes.  They're irresistible," Yamato admitted, batting his eyes in Daisuke's direction like some schoolgirl.  Daisuke chuckled, not wanting to admit how much he agreed.

"So Irresistible, what did you and Taichi do?"

"Went out to eat.  Went to a movie.  Walked home.  And, well, you're too young for the rest."  Daisuke just rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, I'm sure.  You're wild cats, you two.  Painted the town red," Daisuke mocked.

"Hey, at least I wasn't listening to a fat lady sing."

"She wasn't fat.  Well, not very, anyway."  He looked up as he felt Yamato's arms circle around his waist.  

"Um, Yamato?"

"Sorry Daisuke," Yamato dropped his arms and took a step back.  "I guess I feel kind of bad about running out on you last night.

"And I told you last night.  It's okay.  I understand.  Really.  You and Taichi are…well…you and Taichi.  It's like peanut butter and jelly.  Yin and yang.  Sonny and Cher.  You were meant to spend Valentine's together.  Who am I to stand in the way of that?" Daisuke joked.

"I sincerely hope I'm Sonny."

"Oh, I don't know.  You _are the tall singing one.  Besides, Taichi's really more of the dopey cornball that's always there--" Daisuke cut his explanation short when he caught Yamato's eyes._

"Takeru's right you know.  You really are kind of cute."  Yamato smiled softly.  Daisuke let out an uncommitted grunt, quickly turning to hide his blush.

"Did you ever stop to consider that Taichi and I might not be so perfect for each other?" Yamato pressed when Daisuke failed to respond.

"You got back together didn't you?" Daisuke questioned softly, his eyes never leaving the can of soup, that he, unfortunately, could not remember where to place.

"Yeah.  But who's to say that wasn't a mistake?"

"It wasn't a mistake." Daisuke quietly reassured him.  Yamato let out a growl.

"That's not really your call is it?" He replied shortly, "Despite what Takeru may have led you to believe, I am capable of making my own decisions."  

Daisuke was still trying to realign himself with the abrupt change in topics, much less Yamato's sudden ire.  He was, in fact, having the utmost difficulty trying to grasp what Yamato seemed to be suggesting, and upon reaching the obvious conclusions, could not help the small flutter of excitement that passed through him.  Still, it was not enough to over come the growing sense of wrongness this situation gave him.  Daisuke turned his back on Yamato, silently willing his thoughts to come back under his control.

"I know that.  So am I." He finally answered back, shocking himself with what he already knew to be his decision.  Daisuke took another few seconds to steel his resolve before continuing, "And right now, I think you should probably leave."

"Well, I disagree," Yamato countered.  Daisuke set the still yet to be placed soup can on the table with a bit more force than was absolutely necessary, causing both men to jump.

"Fine then," Daisuke breathed a moment later, the words sounding much to calm to offer any real comfort, "You can stay, but I'm leaving.  Lock up when you're through."

"You're just going to walk away?"

Daisuke turned to face Yamato for the first time in several long minutes, making Yamato cringe with the pain in his eyes,  "Damn it Yamato!  What do you want me to do?"

"I want you to consider this for a second," Yamato implored him softly.

"I can't do that," Daisuke answered before he lost his nerve, "You're my friend.  Taichi's my friend.  If you think the two of you are a mistake, then you're right.  That's your decision and, I can't change that.  But please, don't drag me into it."  Daisuke turned to leave for the second time, only to be pulled back again, this time by Yamato's hand on his shoulder.

"Coward.  What are you so afraid of?"  The anger had returned to Yamato's voice, making Daisuke shake his head.  "Do you think that I'm not for real?  That this is some sick joke?  I'm not joking Daisuke."  Yamato jerked him the few inches closer into a kiss.  

For the shortest of moments, it did seem as if Daisuke had been merely over reacting as he found himself forgetting his complaint and almost enjoying this thing that he had wondered about so many times.  It did not take long, however, for the true reality of the situation to come crashing down, and in what most closely resembled a blind panic, Daisuke shoved Yamato away, slapping him hard across the face.  

The room instantly descended into an eerie silence, both men watching the other in an almost frightened, feral manner.   Daisuke took an extra step backwards, just for good measure, and tried focusing on taking deeper or at the very least more calming breaths, but couldn't help watching as Yamato lifted a hand to lightly probe his cheek.

"I'm not the coward Yamato," he said quietly, hoping for some response, something other than that deeply wounded look, "I'm not the one using my friends as the excuse for my imperfect life."  It did not take much for Daisuke to get the response for which he had been looking.  Yamato's eyes almost immediately went from hurt to just plain _pissed_.

"Hn," Yamato gave a disbelieving sort of grunt, "Don't pretend you know so much about me," he instructed, his hand dropping from where it had been rubbing the side of his face, "And you hit like a girl."  The only warning Daisuke received was a slight curling of the fingers just before Yamato's fist connected soundly with his jaw.

+++++++++++

Daisuke knocked on the door in front of him for the second time, hopping from foot to foot in a poor attempt to keep warm.  In his hurry to get out of his apartment he had forgotten to put on a coat.

Where was he?  It was a Sunday afternoon for crying out loud!  Ken was always home on Sundays.  Daisuke was just about to knock for the third time when the door finally opened.

"Daisuke?"  Miyako.  It _had to be Miyako.  "Are you following me?" she asked when he failed to respond._

"Quit stalking Ken," he grumbled back, his heart obviously far from into it, just as Miyako finally gave up on him walking himself indoors and grabbed his arm and pulled.

"Daisuke?" she asked again.  Miyako was concerned.  It was not like Daisuke to pass up the chance to offer a scathing remark.  She let out a sigh of relief when she saw Ken coming down the hall.  He always knew how to handle Daisuke.

"I think something's happened…" Miyako trailed off, realizing just how obvious her statement was.  Ken fingered still red mark on Daisuke's chin for a second, not failing to notice Daisuke's wince.

"Come on.  We had better put some ice on that."  Ken walked towards his kitchen, Miyako and Daisuke trailing a little ways behind.  

Daisuke plopped down miserably on the bench by the table.  He did smile a bit, however, when Miyako sat down next to him and wrapped an arm around his waist.  Ken, meanwhile, had busied himself with forming a makeshift ­­­­cold compress out of a washcloth and a couple of ice cubes.  He handed it off to Miyako, who, after twisting the top of the cloth a few times, pressed it lightly to Daisuke's jaw.

"Well?"  Ken leaned back against the counter, crossing his arms as he waited for Daisuke's response.

"I don't want to talk about it," Daisuke mumbled painfully, grimacing as Ken lifted one eyebrow in question, calmly plucking a Valentine's candy from a nearby dish before continuing.  

"I must be loosing my touch," Ken replied with a soft smirk in Miyako's direction, then, focusing his attentions back on Daisuke, "That wasn't really a request."  He popped the candy into his mouth, giving it a thoughtful chew or two while he waited for Daisuke's response.

"Miya," Daisuke begged softly, flashing her his most pitiful puppy dog eyes.

"Ken?" she passed the request on.  For a moment it did not seem as if Ken was going to give in.  But, he finally did, grabbing another candy with a sigh.

"Okay.  Fine.  One hour.  But then we're going to talk."

Daisuke smiled at this small victory, even finding the courage to get a little cocky.  "Or?"  There went that damned eyebrow again.  Daisuke squirmed miserably in his seat.  Damn the people who could cock their eyebrows!  They were going to be his downfall.

"One hour, Daisuke."

+++++++++++

Daisuke sat down on the couch, pulling open the side table drawer and taking out some chocolates just as Miyako flipped on the television.  He unwrapped one and popped it in his mouth before holding out a second for Miyako.

"No thanks," she smiled before pulling out the drawer on her end table and fetching a baggie full of gummy bears.  She also took the lid off of a nearby dish to reveal a stash of after-dinner mints.

Daisuke just shook his head.  "Man, he has candy hidden everywhere."

"Wait.  That's nothing.  Look over here," Miyako asked, standing to lead Daisuke over to the roll-top computer desk and pulling out one of the medium sized drawers closest to the keyboard.

"Oh, jackpot!  I wondered where he was hiding those," Daisuke fingered the crinkly Smarties® wrappers.  Ken's never ending supply had disappeared not long after Daisuke had discovered them the last time.

"I know it.  The little miser thinks he can keep the best for himself. But I--EEP!" Miyako jumped back as Ken reached between her and Daisuke, sliding the drawer shut and nearly catching two sets of fingers in the process.

"I can see some extra locks will be necessary," Ken answered drolly.  

"You would keep something like that from me?"

"Yes," Ken and Daisuke gave each other speculative looks as the realized they both answered Miyako at the same time.

"Are you ready to tell me what happened yet?" Ken asked.

"You said I had an hour!"

"Yes, but that was before you decided you were well enough to snoop."

"There's a difference between being well enough to snoop and being well enough to be snooped."

"I agree," Ken gave a thoughtful nod before crushing Daisuke's hopes. "But it's minor at best."

"Keeeeeeen!"

"No.  Now I want to know why you came over."

"What?  I have to have an excuse to come visit you now?" Daisuke asked, his tone expressing the utmost outrage.  Ken was not impressed.

"That's one, Daisuke."

"Ugh." Daisuke folded his arms over his chest before flopping down on the couch where he had been sitting before.

"Did you and Takeru get into a fight?"

"No.  But he _will kill me if I ever go back.  Can I stay here with you?" Daisuke asked hopefully._

"No."

Daisuke began to pout even more than before.  "No offence Ken, but you're a really sucky friend."

"Two."  This time Ken flicked his fingers in a peace-like sign, just to make sure Daisuke understood.  "Start talking."  Ken had yet to take a seat and the way he kept staring down at Daisuke was beginning to get unnerving.  Daisuke was just opening his mouth to speak when the phone rang. … And rang. … And rang.

"Miya!  Can you get that?" Ken called after the third ring.  "Miya?"  No answer.  Ken let out a frustrated grumble.  "Don't move," he pointed at Daisuke before hurrying over to snatch at the phone just as it rang for the fifth time.  Daisuke could not help sending the tiniest of smirks in his direction.

"Moshimoshi, Ichijouji speaking. … Yamato?"  It was clearly not who Ken was expecting to phone.  Daisuke jumped up from the couch, quickly forgetting his order to stay put, and hurried over to stand where Ken could see him.  Ken gave him a narrowed look but immediately went back to listening to what Yamato was saying.

"Yeah, sorry to call," Yamato replied, "But I'm looking for Daisuke."

"Daisuke?" Ken asked this time, giving said person a once over with his eyes as he spoke.  Daisuke instantly began motioning with his hands for Ken not to say anything more.  Ken rolled his eyes before continuing into the phone, "Sorry.  Haven't seen him."  Daisuke let his pent up breath out in a whoosh.

"I know he's there," Yamato growled, "Takeru says he always runs to your place."

"Takeru?"  Ken did not fail to note Daisuke's flinch.

"Would you quit repeating every name I say!?!"

"Mmm, sorry.  Just trying to get a grasp on the situation," Ken replied soothingly.

"I really need to talk to him.  It's very important," Yamato requested, not sounding the least bit soothed.

"Well I am sorry.  But like I said, I haven't seen him.  Maybe you should call Jun and ask if she's heard from him," Ken suggested far too calmly.

"Fine," Yamato knew when to give in, "I'll ask someone else."

"Okay then, good luck.  See you."

"Yeah.  Bye."  

"Thanks Ken," Daisuke sighed as Ken replaced the phone on its receiver.

"You were going to tell me what happened?" was all he got back by way of a 'you're welcome'.  Daisuke sighed again.  Ken was like a dog after a bone.  A very persistent, all or nothing, grab on to your throat and hold until you relent or die-dog.

"Is it too much to ask for you to let me destroy my life in peace?"

Ken's face seemed to soften a bit at Daisuke's question.  He even reached out and gave Daisuke's arm a light squeeze.  "Look, you show up on my door step claiming you need a place to live because Takeru, of all people, is going to kill you.  You've obviously been in some sort of scuffle and when Yamato calls, you nearly have a panic attack.  Now what kind of friend would I be if I wasn't at least concerned?"  He gave Daisuke a weepy-eyed look and a sort of wistful smile that wouldn't melt butter.  This time it was Daisuke's turn not to be impressed.

"Scuffle?  Who uses the word scuffle anymore?"  He barely had time to register the dangerous flash through Ken's eyes before he was shoved rather forcefully into the nearest closet, which just happened to be the one where Ken stored his extra coats, all ten of them.  He had a thing about coats.  Thankfully, said coats absorbed most of Daisuke's momentum.  Unfortunately, they also made it much more difficult for him to scurry back up and so Ken was able to get the door shut and blockaded before Daisuke could escape.

"Three," Daisuke announced in a wretched little mumble, then speaking up, "Ken.  Let me out of here!"

"No.  I'm tired of playing games with you Daisuke.  You know the rules.  When you tell me what happened--then you can come out, but not before."

"Can I at least have a light?" Daisuke moaned.  Ken flicked the nearby switch on for a second before turning it right back off.

"Oh that's nice," came Daisuke's sarcastic reply.  "I can hold out just as long as you can."

"Yes, but I've got food, water and a bathroom.  You do not."

"You do not," Daisuke parroted back.

"In the closet again, eh?" Miyako must have returned.

"Where did you go?"  Ken asked, obviously wondering the same thing as Daisuke.

"Ice-cream craving."  She held up the half empty carton as proof.

"So you just left to go get ice-cream?"

"Yeah.  I figured the two of you would be banging heads for a while anyway," she shrugged, "Speaking of, how long has he been in there."

"Only about a minute so far."

"I want some ice-cream," Daisuke begged in a pitiful little voice.

"Tell me what happened and I'll buy a whole carton, just for you," Ken promised.

Daisuke sat back on his haunches in the dark closet, surprised.  _What?  A bribe instead of a threat?  Ken must really be cracking, he thought._

"You're bribing him now?" Miyako asked incredulously.  Daisuke rolled his eyes, _Sure Miya, point it out._

"Hmm, you're right," Ken concurred, then, "Tell me what happened _or I'll toss Miya in there too."  _

"What'd I do?" she asked, trying her best to scramble away before Ken caught her wrist.  No such luck was to be had.

"One more chance, Daisuke."  When Daisuke didn't answer, Ken unblocked the door and opening only as much as was absolutely necessary, slung Miyako inside.  He had the door shut and blocked again before either of them had a chance to do much of anything.  Miyako started beating on the door as soon as she could get on to her knees.

"Ken?  Ken!  The least you could do is turn on a light," Miyako complained.

"Don't," Daisuke stopped short as the overhead light flipped on and then off, "bother asking," he finished, banging his own fist against the door.

"Oh, look, Miya left me her ice-cream.  Mmmm," Ken teased from the other side.

"I will kill you Ichijouji," Miyako growled.

"If I were you, I'd find a way to make Daisuke talk before my ice-cream was all gone," Ken suggested.

"And how do you suppose I do that?"

"I would tickle him.  Daisuke absolutely hates to be tickled."

"Ken!" Daisuke gasped, "You promised you would never tell her that!"

"I lied."

Daisuke could almost feel Miyako's evil smirk as she zoned in on his whereabouts.  "Fine!  Fine.  I'll talk," he promised before trailing off again.  Ken gave him a full minute before pushing.

"We're waiting."

"In the dark," Miyako felt the need to remind him.  Daisuke slapped away the hand reaching for his midsection.

"Yamato kissed me."

"What!?"

"Miya, be quite," Ken admonished, "Go on Daisuke."

"He came over to pick up his stuff this morning and we were talking.  And then he kissed me.  And then we got into a big fight and I slapped him and he punched me.  So I left and came here."

"And Takeru going to kill you because…"

"This is Yamato we're talking about," the way Daisuke said it made it sound like it should be common knowledge, "And when Takeru finds out how much I upset Yamato…he's going to kill me."

"It's okay.  Takeru's not going to kill you.  He's your friend.  I'm sure you can explain it to him," Miyako soothed, patting Daisuke's hand.  It only took three tries for her to find it in the dark.  He sent a grateful smile in what he hoped was her direction.

"I know there's more," Ken chided when Daisuke failed to continue.

"Well, not really…" Daisuke hedged momentarily before continuing, "It's just--he's dating Taichi and for a second I didn't think that mattered.  I didn't care.  But Taichi's my friend too.  I couldn't do it."

"No," Ken quietly agreed.

"Yamato thinks I'm a coward," Daisuke whispered, "And part of me almost has to agree…" his voice trailed off for a second before regaining it's strength, "Maybe that's the real reason I turned down the one person I really, really like.  Maybe I'm just too stupid to know when I've got a good thing going."

"No."  This time Ken's voice had taken on the steely edge of disagreement.  "Daisuke, listen to me.  Daisuke?"

"I'm listening," Daisuke sighed.  Ken always required verbal affirmation when he was in these moods.

"What Yamato did was wrong and completely out of line.  You would be well within your rights never to see or speak to him again.  And as to Takeru, I'm sure if you're honest about what happened then he'll understand."

"But I _did like it."_

It took Ken a moment to realize what Daisuke was referring to--_ah yes, Ishida's inability to keep his lips to himself.  "Of course you did.  Yamato's hot," Ken paused for Miyako's outraged gasp, but none was forthcoming.  Apparently she agreed.  "But that's no excuse for what he did.  If anything he should have practiced even more self-control if he knew about your feelings."_

"It's okay Daisuke," Miyako spoke up, "If Yamato ever tries anything like this again, you just tell us and Ken and I will take care of it."  Daisuke couldn't help being uplifted just a little by the spunk in her voice.

"Takeru would definitely kill me if I let you murder Yamato," he teased.

"Oh, there are plenty of ways to make a person wish they were dead with out actually killing them," Ken interjected, "Trust me."

"Guys…" Daisuke warned, though he couldn't help smiling at the mental images their fierce protection evoked.  "You're going to feel really bad if something does happen to him."

"Nah…Ouch!" Miyako cried as Daisuke slapped her hand away from his belly again.  Ken sat outside the door shaking his head.  It was only a matter of time before they killed each other.

"Are you two ready to come out?"

"No, I think we want to stay a bit longer," Daisuke scoffed, sarcastically answering for them both.  It did not matter, however, because Ken opened the door anyway.  He almost laughed out loud at the sight of them, blinking up at him with light sensitive eyes like a couple of moles.

"What _are you going to do Daisuke?" Ken asked, holding out his hands to help both of them up off the floor.  "You know Miya and I will stand by you no matter what."  Daisuke just shrugged._

"Yeah.  And I don't know," Daisuke did his best to offer up a relieving smile.  It must not have worked, because the concerned look never left Ken's eyes.  Daisuke sighed again before continuing.  "Nothing, I guess.  I mean, I'll get over it someday, right?"

+++++++++++

to be continued…


	4. The Whip

Disclaimer: I do not own Digimon.

Author's Note: Okay, then.  I guess we are far enough into the story for me to explain this.  From day one I have considered this an AU.  Why, you ask.  Because I want to.  No, honestly, I'm playing with an idea like "The True Story of the Digi-Destined," which of course no one can _actually_ do…as they are cartoons.  Still, it's a fun idea.  

"You were saying this was an AU because…?"  I'm getting to it.  This is an AU in which the children's television show that Takeru is writing (Daisuke mentions it in the 3rd chapter) _is in fact_, the Digimon we all know and love.  That is to say, this AU is RU…er…I mean our universe, and thus, different from the cartoon universe.  Get it?  "Got it."  Good.

Author's Note 2: Word to the wise—Ken's a bit, ah, strong.  Woosie!Ken just isn't doing it for me.  Besides, as you're no doubt well aware, I've placed him with Miyako and putting a guy incapable of standing up for himself with her would be plain cruel.  I refuse.  Besides, I've always harbored suspicions that Kenny-boy might have a bit more of a backbone then he lets on.  After all, too use a terrible, if entirely too appropriate, cliché, you can't plant a seed in a barren field.  Now on with the show!  ^_^

**Absolutions:  
The Whip**

"Give me chastity and continence, but not yet."  
~ Saint Augustine (354-430)

Never, in all of his born days, had Daisuke known someone who could metamorphose from friend to work-a-holic in as short a time as Ichijouji Ken.  Before Daisuke managed to completely right himself and help Miyako up from the closet floor, his dear, sweet,_ concerned best friend had relocated to the computer and was now steadfastly working away on something that looked much too much like a spreadsheet of random numbers._

"You go fix some sandwiches and I'll accidentally trip a fuse."

Daisuke sent a questioning look at Miyako's extraordinary, if blandly whispered, sentence.  She just shrugged.  "What?  I'm hungry."  Daisuke's shocked look must have still remained because she quickly let out a sigh.

"You know as well as I do that we won't ever get him off the computer otherwise.  Just go.  I'll take care of everything on this end."

"If you say so," Daisuke replied, still unsure, "But if Ken kills you, don't look for me to come to your rescue."

"If I'm dead, I'll hardly need rescuing," came the glib reply.  Miyako made her way back towards the apartment's laundry/utility room, stopping only to drop an ignored kiss on the top of Ken's head.  Daisuke shook his head before going to make the requested sandwiches.  Knowing Miyako, she'd only give him only a two-minute window and then complain if everything was not perfect.  Sure enough, barely a moment later, everything went dark.  Daisuke bit back a groan as he heard her yell down the hall.

"Daisuke!  How many times have I told you that you cannot run the blender and the microwave at the same time!  The wiring in this place is old."

Ken pushed his chair back from the desk with what might have been a muttered obscenity.  "I told you Miya, if you want to talk to me, talk.  You don't have to pull a fuse."

"Oh Ken!  Your work is all ruined.  I'll speak to Daisuke about being more considerate.  But since you're up, how about lunch in the park.  I'm sure I could throw together something for us all," she chirped, completely unconcerned about his dark tone.  Ken sighed in defeat.

"I'm sure Daisuke already has," he allowed Miyako to pull him towards the apartment door, "You can come out now, Daisuke.  I'm not going to kill anybody."

_"I'll take care of everything on this end," Daisuke muttered, finally making his appearance, "Where have you hid the potato chips?  With the P's or the C's?"_

"They're with the C's.  Above the fridge," Ken smiled at his put out friend.  Daisuke disappeared for a second before returning with the colorful bag.

"We'll have to buy drinks at the park," he informed them, "And someone might want to replace the fuse before we leave so you don't loose everything in the refrigerator."

"I can do that," Miyako volunteered before skipping off to complete the task.

"She do this often?" Daisuke questioned after Miyako had left.

"You have no idea."

"I did try to warn you," Daisuke teased just as the person in question returned.

"Warn him about what?"

"I don't recall," Ken replied vaguely, "Something about blood-sucking and an eternity in hell."

"That so?"

"It is."

"Well Daisuke," Miyako pushed them both towards the door, turning off lights as they passed by each room, "Maybe I haven't given you enough credit."  She gave him her best evil smirk, a truly frightening affair.  Daisuke turned to Ken with a shudder.

"You know I love you both to death," he reminded Ken before asking, "but do you have to love each other?"  He did his best to block out Miyako's maniacal laughter.

+++++++++++****

It was a beautiful afternoon in the park and fairly empty, which meant they had a chance of Ken actually allowing them stay longer than it took to engulf their sandwiches.  They found a nice sunny spot, safe from the cold shade of the trees, and realizing no one thought to bring a blanket to lie down, seated themselves in the chilly grass.

Daisuke sighed.  It really was a magnificent day.  He only wished that they were out for a more festive occasion rather than what he knew to be Miyako's impromptu cheer Daisuke up dinner.

"Tell me, Daisuke."  Ken was watching him with nothing short of worry.  Now attentive friends were good friends because…  Daisuke bit back another sigh before that sarcastic little thought could escape. 

"I don't like it when people tear apart my hard work," Daisuke gave a pointed look to Ken's sandwich, which he had dissected and was now beginning to reconstruct, in a new order.  Ken just shrugged, not bothered by Daisuke's pretended resentment.

"Ken?" Daisuke finally questioned, for lack of other stimuli.  All he got for his effort was a muffled mmph.  "Would you try to catch me if I fell of a cliff?"

Miyako took Ken's full mouth as a chance to pose her own question.  "Now, are you talking about falling, being pushed, or jumping?"

"Miya," Ken let out his own exasperated sigh.

"What's that tone supposed to mean?" she now questioned Ken, "I'm just saying that I might be willing to help out with one or two of the three."

"Miya.  Enough," came Ken's shocked tone.  Not that Daisuke knew how that could possibly be an honest response.  After all, he, himself, had made absolutely sure that Ken had a full list of Miyako's faults. 

"I hate being a woman," Miyako complained, "Never allowed any opinions; never allowed to speak your mind—"  She suddenly found herself the center of both men's attention, dismissing their disbelieving stares with a wave of her hand.  "You know it's true!"

He could not help himself.  Regardless of the fact that it would probably annoy Miyako to no end and thus, put his life in a rather precarious position, Daisuke laughed.

"See?" Miyako now said proudly, "I know how to make Daisuke happy.  All you have to do is threaten his life."  She gave Ken a knowing look as she patted Daisuke's hand.  "Don't you worry about jumping.  I'd would love to be the one to knock you off a cliff."

"Miya," Daisuke's set smile assured her, "If you ever push me off a cliff, I'm taking you with me."  Miyako's mouth dropped in feigned horror.

"Daisuke!"  When he just shrugged indifferently, she turned to Ken.  "You're not going to let him talk to me like that, are you?" she queried shrilly.  Ken seemed to be trying to rub away a massive headache.

After a few more seconds massage, he finally looked up.  "Daisuke, why are you afraid of falling off of a cliff?"  His voice held the tone of someone who had thought they had heard it all; only to find out they were very, very wrong.

"I'm not afraid of falling off a cliff," Daisuke clarified, ignoring his admonition to Ken of a moment before as he broke apart his own sandwich to add a handful of chips. "I was only wondering that if I _was_ falling, would you catch me."

"Yes…" Ken answered slowly.

"Even if Miya were falling too?" Daisuke continued.  Now both faces were focused on Ken.  He drummed his fingers in the grass for a moment, trying to think.

"Well, that depends," he finally answered, then turning so that he was directly facing Miyako, "What were you saying the other day about kids?"

"I don't know," she shrugged, "I'd like three or four.  Or maybe six."  She spit out the last part as quickly as her tongue would let her.

"Definitely you," Ken assured Daisuke before calmly retuning to is sandwich and chips.

"Ken," Miya cried.  Daisuke wrapped a not-so-comforting arm around her shoulder and gave a bit of a squeeze.

"Hey now," he reassured her, "You should be thankful he's even considering having children with a Medea like yourself."  Daisuke turned his attention to Ken, "You do realize that this means you'll have to actually have sex with Miyako right?  Unless you're better than I ever gave you credit for…" he trailed off with an unsure glance at Miyako.

"Hn," Ken chuckled, "Medea.  Good one Daisuke."  

Miyako rolled her eyes in contempt, "Cliché."  She rounded on Daisuke with an evil smirk, "Besides, we are and he is," her clinched smile more than suggesting that any relations on their part were for the sole purpose of spiting Motomiya Daisuke.  Said friend clutched a hand over his heart as if in pain before falling back on to the grass with a moan.  Ken just blushed harder than he had in years.

Miyako grinned at her two men, both closer to apoplexy than either wanted.  "Score two for Miyako!" she proudly declared.

"Two?!"  Daisuke seemed to have instantly bounced back from his near death experience, "When did you get one?"

"Don't even pretend you've forgotten," Miyako threatened, "When I opened the door, we had a little exchange, which I _clearly_ won."

"I can't believe you're counting that!  I was upset!"

"Woe to the man who lets his emotions dull his competitive edge."  Miyako flashed him the number two sign, giving the fingers a bit of a wiggle for emphasis.

"Daisuke," Ken quickly broke up the impending argument, "I've been meaning to have you come over and see how I take care of Fluffy.  When's your next evening off?"

Daisuke nearly groaned.  He had forgotten about Ken's inevitable _I'm going to be gone for at least thirty minutes, so let me teach you basic botany so that you can water my stupid plant once a day_ speech.  "Well…" he hedged, "I don't really know.  Uh… Maybe you can just tell me if anything has changed from when I was taking care of Snowball.  They're the same, right?"  The stupidity of his question dawned on Daisuke approximately 2.3 seconds later—but not before Ken had nearly choked on a piece of sandwich.

"I'd feel better if you came over," Ken stated as calmly as could be expected once he had gotten his breath back.  "After all, I would like to avoid another Snowball fiasco."  Ken gave a quiet sniff.

"There, there," Daisuke comforted, moving around Miyako to give Ken a hug, "That whole Snowball thing was terrible," he sent Miyako a dirty glare, "I'm sure that nothing like that would ever happen.  After all you'll have the culprit with you so Fluffy is as good as safe."

That was too much.  Between Ken's moist eyes and little sniffs and Daisuke's dirty looks, Miyako blew a gasket.  "I DID NOT kill that damned flower!"

"Plants don't go from perfectly healthy to limp and brown in less than three days with out help," Daisuke answered reasonably, giving Ken an extra squeeze at the mention of Snowball's untimely demise, "Now, no one's saying you did anything, just that it looks really, really suspicious.  Really."

"Daisuke…" Miyako's voice had taken on a warning tone that Daisuke had not heard in years.  It was time to get out of this one, quick, or risk loosing a body part.

"I've got Thursday off.  I'll come over then."  Daisuke gave Ken another squeeze and sent Miyako what he hoped was a soothing smile.  Neither seemed particularly comforted.

"Snowball…" Ken whispered on his one side.

"I can't believe you brought that up," Miyako grumbled on his other.

"I'm sorry," Daisuke promised.

"Snowball…" Ken told the grass.

"Why do I get the guy with a thing for mums?" Miyako asked a nearby tree, only to be shocked as Ken's voice immediately regained its strength.

"I do not have a _thing_ for mums," he stated very matter-of-factly for one so near depression just moments before.  Both of Miyako's eyebrows nearly shot off her face.

"Ken," she began disbelievingly, "You—" She was cut short by Daisuke's hastily placed finger over his lips.  He gave her his best look and a small shake of his head.  Her eyes widened in acknowledgement a second later, "No, of course not.  I was just…talking," she assured Ken with a smile.

"See Daisuke," Ken practically crowed, "Miyako agrees with me.  Maybe she knows me better than you do."

"Maybe?" Miyako queried.

"You're probably right," Daisuke assured them both, his quick acquiescence earning him only the smallest of disbelieving looks from Ken.  Daisuke flashed him his best (and hopefully honest) grin.

It must not have worked as well as he hoped because Ken still felt the need to assure him, "I am right."

Miyako was not so very sure either, "Maybe?" she repeated.

"Of course you do," Ken seemed to be on a reassurance roll.  Daisuke had to fight to keep his eyes from rolling as Miyako's filled with joyful tears.

"Aww, thanks, Ken," she cooed, nudging Daisuke back out of the way so that she could wrap her arm around Ken's and rest her head on his shoulder, "I think that's the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me."

"Why am I not surprised?" Daisuke mumbled, then, "Ow!"  Miyako had thunked him right between the eyes.  "You said you weren't going to do that anymore," he accused, rubbing the sore spot.

"Feh."

"Ohhhh, brilliant rebuttal," Daisuke responded sarcastically, ignoring the way she kept batting her eyes a Ken, just to annoy him, as he reached for the bag of chips.  He shook out two on to his palm before placing the bag back in front of Miyako.  Tossing one in his mouth, he used the other to catch the eye of a nearby duck looking for handouts.

Ken sighed, shaking his head as Daisuke placed the chip as closely as possibly to the unsuspecting Miyako.  He had made a habit of not becoming involved in their little _war_, but still, Ichijouji Ken was not one to smile on wasted food.  He rescued the remaining potato chips, rolling the bag closed and placing it on his far side, and as much away from Miyako and Daisuke as he could.  He did not even attempt to save the last chip, as the duck was now coming full tilt and he had somewhat of a fear of the feathered noisemakers.

"I don't know about you guys," Ken began, "But I'm about ready—" His suggestion that they head back to the warmth of home was cut short by Miyako's squeal, as the aforementioned duck began to greedily devour the potato chip, regardless of the proximity of her backside.

"Now that is a brilliant rebuttal," Daisuke laughed at his pun, holding up a finger to mark his win, "And the gap narrows…"  

Ken just let out another sigh.

+++++++++++

Daisuke smiled to himself as he opened the door to his apartment.  Lunch had cheered him and hearing Miyako swear she would never speak to him again had made him feel just plain euphoric.  He hung the coat Ken had lent him in the front closet before heading back to his room to take what he felt to be a well-deserved nap before he had to leave for work that evening.

The initial thing he noticed as he walked into his room was how deathly quiet the entire apartment seemed.  The second was Takeru, calmly waiting for him in the middle of his bed.  And for the first time since finding out just what it was that Jun kept in her top drawer, he cried out loud, hurrying to flip on the room light and hoping against hope that Takeru would disappear.  But no such luck was to be had.

"I've been waiting for you to get home."

"Takeru," Daisuke did his best to keep the nervous stutter out of his voice, "Hi.  I guess you're probably wondering what's been going on."

"No.  Yamato told me everything that happened."

"He did?"  Daisuke flinched as he heard his voice raise two octaves.  He cleared his throat in preparation to continue, only to find that Takeru had continued with out further inquiry from him.

"God Daisuke.  I'm so sorry. This is all my fault."  Takeru sat shaking his head miserably, his eyes never leaving the fisted hands in his lap.

"What?"  Damn his stupid voice.  Would he ever be able to say anything ever again with out sounding like he had been recently castrated?  He cleared his throat again, making sure to do it so thoroughly this time that even Takeru was forced to look up and make sure that some invisible assailant was not strangling him.  

"It's not your fault, Takeru," Daisuke responded a moment later as he flopped down on the bed next to his friend.  Takeru continued to eye him worriedly, making Daisuke smile at _his_ previous fears.  "I'm so glad you aren't going to kill me."

"You thought I would kill you?"

"Well no.  I never _really_ thought you would kill me.  But I did think you might rip off my head and leave it to molder in a cereal bowl on the table."

"Heh," Takeru gave him a sheepish sort of grin, "Er, yeah.  I'm going to start remembering to wash those up.  Really."  Daisuke just waved the promise away.

"Nah.  What would I do with all my extra time if I didn't have to spend it picking up after you."

Takeru wrapped both arms around Daisuke's waist, hugging him tight.  "Aww, Daisuke.  You're the best friend a guy could have."  

"Okay.  Now you're pushing it." Daisuke answered tersely, ignoring the fact that Takeru's extra little squeeze before he finally let go made him smile.

"So are we cool?"

"_We_ were never un-cool." Daisuke frowned, remembering what, or rather, who had caused all this trouble in the first place.  "Yamato on the other hand," he trailed off menacingly before continuing, "I have a couple of things I need to talk to him about."

"Good." Takeru answered shortly, "Because he's here now and he wants to talk to you too."

"What?" The squeak was out before he could stop it.

+++++++++++

"I'm supposed to be napping," Daisuke mumbled before frowning at Takeru, who reached in front of them both to open the door to his bedroom and shoved Daisuke through.  There was absolutely no doubt in Daisuke's mind that that manipulative little twit had had the whole thing planned from the very beginning.  He gave the now closed door another dirty look, just for good measure, before turning to face Yamato. 

"Daisuke?"  Yamato seemed genuinely surprised to see him.  He had even paused in mid-fold with the pair of boxers he was holding.  When he noticed Daisuke's slightly amused smirk he quickly crumpled said boxers and hid them under an already packed pair of pants.  "I didn't hear you come in," he tried desperately to break the silence one last time.  Daisuke just shook his head.

"You have got to be the slowest packer on the face of the earth," he finished with a short laugh.  Yamato did not find that as funny as Daisuke.  

"Not funny," he intoned.

"Do you find that packing that slowly makes leaving in a huff difficult?"  Jab, jab, jab, no, there was absolutely nothing immature about the way Daisuke handled this sort of situation.

"I've been a little distracted," Yamato replied tersely, grabbing a nearby article of clothing and beginning to fold before realizing that these too were underwear.  Yamato quickly crumpled them into a ball and hid them under the same pair of pants.

"And I suppose that is my fault as well," Daisuke snapped back, quickly catching Yamato's tone.

"I never said anything was your fault." Yamato did his best to reply calmly only to nearly scream as he removed yet another pair of boxers from the waiting clothesbasket.

"How many of those did you bring?" Daisuke asked, motioning to the offending underwear, which quickly disappeared under the pants with their brethren.

"I didn't know how long I'd be staying.  I wanted to play it safe."  By now they were both yelling, though neither knew why.  Daisuke took a deep breath and Yamato gave him a small, embarrassed smile.

"Look," Yamato began, in what proved to be a much calmer voice, "I'm sorry about what happened earlier.  I guess I handled that the wrong way."

"Guess?"  Daisuke was quickly loosing his placated look.

"I handled it the wrong way," Yamato quickly clarified.  He held out his hands in a calming gesture, waiting for Daisuke to simmer back down to where he had been a second before.  "I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry, too," Daisuke apologized a moment later, "I guess I kind of flew off the handle."  He offered up what he hoped was a peace-making smile.  It must have worked because Yamato quickly offered up one of his own.

"But you did kind of overreact.  After all it was just a stupid kiss," Yamato gave a soft chuckle.

"Gee, yeah," Daisuke said sweetly, if all to sarcastically, "A stupid kiss.  Stupid me for making a mountain out of a mole hill."

"Daisuke," Yamato began desperately, all to aware of his mistake from a moment before.  Note to self, keep big mouth shut.  

"No."  Daisuke answered, pointing a finger in Yamato's direction, "No.  You kissed me.  That's supposed to mean something.  And it hurt me when I thought it meant something.  But for you to just brush it away…that hurts even more."  

"Daisuke, please.  I'm sorry.  I didn't mean it that way," Yamato tried desperately, "I just want us to be friends again."  He could not help flinching a bit at the pained look on Daisuke's face.  "I know that's really selfish of me to ask, but please?  I promise I won't do anything stupid ever again."  Yamato was relieved to see Daisuke's small, if somewhat disbelieving nod.

"Never?" Daisuke begged confirmation.

"Okay, maybe sometimes, but never this stupid.  I promise."

"Okay," Daisuke finally conceded, "But it's going to take a while.  I don't want you showing up tomorrow acting like every things cool.  Because it's not, not by a long shot.  You got that?"  He tried to keep the ire in his voice, but was fighting a loosing battle.  The curse had been his all his life, easy to anger, easy to soothe.  It made holding grudges a very difficult thing.  But he was not above trying.

Yamato nodded his agreement, "Fine, I understand.  But I want you to understand that I'm not going to drop this.  I _do_ want us to be friends."  And it was things like that that made holding on to his anger so very difficult for Daisuke.  Besides, there was something about a pleading, wet-eyed look from a disheveled Yamato that could make Daisuke go weak at the knees, and no, he did not want to consider the implications of that.

"I do to," he finally admitted, though so softly that Yamato was not entirely sure he heard correctly.  Still he forged ahead as if he had every confidence in the world.

"Good, because you're really difficult to talk to when you're angry," he let out a relieved sigh.  "Now I know you want me out of your apartment and I am trying.  But if you don't mind, I prefer to fold my undergarments with out an audience."

"Alright," Daisuke turned to open the door behind him, only to find it jammed.

"What the?" he mumbled to himself as he bent to examine the knob more closely.  Everything seemed in perfect repair, at least on this side.  It turned easily, but when he went to push open the door, nothing.

"What's the matter?" Yamato asked from behind.

"I can't get the door open."

"What do you mean?"

Daisuke let out a frustrated growl as he shoved his shoulder into the door in a vain attempt to cause it to become dislodged, "I mean, I can't get the door open."

"Is it locked?"

"No.  I think I'd know to check if it was locked," Daisuke complained, discreetly moving his fingers over the locking mechanism to assure himself that it was not.

 He looked up as a gentle hand moved him out of the way so that Yamato could crouch directly in front of the keyhole.  Yamato gave the knob a bit of a rattle before peering through the tiny opening.

"Takeru has wedged a chair under there," he informed Daisuke a moment later, "Sorry Daisuke, I never should have shown him that."

Daisuke just scowled.  _Manipulative bastard. Takeru would die tonight._

"Takeru?" Yamato called, "I know you're out there.  Takeru?" he did not receive an answer but that did not stop him from continuing, "If you don't open this door right now, I swear on all that is holy you will regret it for the rest of your life."

They both heard Takeru clear his throat before answering, a slight shiver in his voice, "It's for your own good." 

"Let us out Takeru," Yamato insisted.  With in moments there was a scraping as the chair was moved away from the door.

Daisuke opened the bedroom door, this time with out resistance, and peered into an empty hall.  All that remained of Takeru was a kitchen chair setting against the far wall.

"Impressive," Daisuke complemented.

"Yeah.  It's an older sibling thing.  One of the perks.  One of the _few _perks," Yamato's evil grin was enough to frighten even Daisuke.  Still, he managed to hide it, choosing instead to shake his head in mock admonition.

Daisuke took a few steps down the hall towards his own bedroom before turning back to Yamato, who was still standing in his brother's doorway.  "Oh, and Yamato?  I do want you out of here.  But you can come back sometime."  Yamato gave him a soft smile.

"Thanks Daisuke."

+++++++++++

Ken swung the door open with a growl.  He looked more than a little rumpled and much less than happy to see his best friend for the second time that day.  His mood was not improved by Daisuke's point blank question.

"Do you think I over-react?"  

Ken's mind, however, was elsewhere. "You own a coat," he began slowly, "I lent you a coat just this afternoon.  Why the hell aren't you wearing a coat?" he ended much more forcefully.

"Focus, Ken!" Daisuke insisted.

"Will you at least come inside?"  Ken was notorious for his anti-cold sentiments.  But Daisuke was not about to let himself be drawn into an obvious trap.

"I've got to go to work.  Just answer my question."

Ken rolled his eyes before disappearing back into the house to retrieve yet another coat from his massive collection.  He came back a few moments later; this time with Miyako on his heals and tossed the coat at Daisuke.  "Fine.  Now what was your question?"

"Do I over-react?"

The way Ken shook his head seemed to say that this was one conversation he was not looking forward to having on his doorstep in full view of all of his neighbors.  Unfortunately he could not think of how it could be avoided.  "Yes, Daisuke.  You always over-react.  You have never not over-reacted."  Daisuke's response was quick, and actually a few decibels lower than Ken had suspected.

"I do NOT over-react!!"  That was not to suggest that it was, by any means, a tone to be used in the presence of others.

"Of course not Daisuke," Ken purposefully kept his voice low and calm, "Why are you yelling at me again?"

"WOULD YOU STOP BEING SO DAMNED REASONABLE AND JUST LISTEN TO ME FOR ONCE?!"  Daisuke's first clue should have been when Miyako actually removed herself from the situation without having been forced, or failing that, when Ken took a measured step back, that little muscle near his eye twitching.  Ken took several long, deep breaths in the hope of regaining his composure.

"Could you just put the coat on?"  Ken's voice had taken on a low, all too familiar tone, but Daisuke was beyond noticing such minor changes in his friend's demeanor.  

"How did we get back to the stupid coat?"

"Put the goddamned coat on before I tie it around your neck."  Ichijouji Ken could be pushed only so far, and, as Daisuke soon noted, he had passed that mark about thirty seconds previous.  This realization brought with it a sickening sort of feeling.  He quickly shrugged into the borrowed coat before his friend could get any angrier, giving a fluttery sort of placating smile.  

"I'm sorry Ken.  I didn't mean to o—" he tried his best, but could not quite bring himself to say the word, "--yell at you," he finished lamely.

"You never do," Ken answered back tersely, causing Daisuke to flinch.  Ken continued to stare at his friend as he tried to bite back the part of him wanting to laugh.  "Button your coat," he ordered, this time a bit more gently.  He could not help his small chuckle as Daisuke jumped to comply.  Ken even smiled a bit when Daisuke glanced back up to judge if his quick compliance had earned him any extra points.  

Oh well, Ken thought resignedly, might as well let him know he won.  "Do you want to come in for some tea?"

A more appealing idea, Daisuke had never heard.  Still… "I've got to go to work."  He turned away for a second before turning back around to face Ken, "But we're going to talk about this later," he ventured bravely.  Daisuke could not deny the relief he felt at Ken's soft sigh and slightly disbelieving shake of the head.

"I await your return with baited breath."

Daisuke stepped up to drop a kiss on Ken's icy cheek, "We can discuss your sarcasm issues too," he suggested, ignoring Ken's _hn_ at his presumptions.  "Now go back inside.  It's cold out here," he dictated.  

And with that, Daisuke turned and walked away, leaving Ken to wonder if he should laugh or strangle his bizarre friend.  In the end, he just let his eyes follow Daisuke until he reached the edge of the hall, then locked himself back into his warmer home as per the utter kook's suggestion.

+++++++++++

Daisuke opened the door, shooting a wistful look at the green and white bag Yamato was holding in front of him as if in offering.  He sincerely hoped that it contained donuts, but knew in his heart of hearts that they were actually plain bagels.

"I brought breakfast!"

Daisuke could not help his chuckle, "It's one o'clock in the afternoon."

"So?  Breakfast doesn't happen at any specific time, it's in relation to whenever you actually awake.  Why else would they have 24-hour breakfast places?"

"Your logic astounds me," Daisuke replied sarcastically.  Ken must have been rubbing off on him.  Yamato just grinned.

"Is my brother here?" he asked a second later.

"Nope.  He's in class all afternoon."

"Good," Yamato gave Daisuke an evil smirk as he handed him a very plain bagel, "Because I didn't bring him one."  Daisuke turned and walked back to the kitchen, looking to get them both a plate and hoping to find something to turn the chewy, heavy donut-want-to-be into something a bit more edible.  

"That isn't very healthy," Yamato informed him a moment later as he came back with their plates and his bagel smeared with peanut butter and jelly.

"It isn't?" Daisuke asked, his voice full of what might have been misconstrued as genuine interest had he not taken a rather large bite immediately afterwards.

Three days.  It had been three days since Yamato had moved back in with Taichi, and on every last one of those three days he had found an excuse to spend at least some amount of time at Daisuke and Takeru's place.  Had Daisuke been the type to prefer his own company to that of others, he may have been annoyed.  As it was, he was happy for the distraction.

Yamato had already settled himself on one end of the living room's couch, flipping on the television and apparently intent on making himself at home.  Daisuke flopped down next to him with a shake of his head and waited to see if he could coax some decent show out of the usual line up of mid-day soap operas.

"Thirty channels and nothing good," Yamato mumbled at the television before flipping it back off and tossing the remote on the side table.

"Hey, I'm kind of fond of that Days of our Lives show," Daisuke groused before grinning at the horrified look on Yamato's face.

"You're weird," Yamato felt the need to clarify, just in case the shock and horror continuing to radiate from his face were not clue enough.

"You have no idea."

Yamato brushed off the short statement with little concern.  "I'm bored.  There's nothing to do at home and there's nothing to do here, either," he complained.

"So what am I supposed to do?" Daisuke asked, "Entertain you?"

"Yes," Yamato declared, flopping back into Daisuke's lap in what mildly resembled a wanton gesture, "Entertain _ME_."

Daisuke resisted the urge to brush the loose hairs away from Yamato's eyes, choosing instead to ask, "And how do you suppose I go about doing that?"

"Take me to a movie?" Yamato suggested hopefully.

"Nope, can't," Daisuke shook his head in the negative, "I've got to be at work by 3:00."

"Not even a short one?" Yamato reached up to goose Daisuke's middle only to get his hand slapped for the effort.

"No and don't," Daisuke fussed.  Yamato had discovered the ticklish spot by accident the day before and had proven that he was not above using it to get what he wanted.

"Daisuke," Yamato pouted, yet another trick of his used to wheedle the things he wanted out of people.

"We need to get you a puppy or something."

"No thank you.  Dogs lick," the look of distaste on his face as well as the slight shudder that passed through his body was more than enough to prove Yamato's true feelings.  Daisuke bit back the laugh threatening to bubble to the surface.

"And so does Taichi, I'd imagine," he responded dryly, delighting in the candy apple red color that seemed to instantly cover Yamato.  This time he could not resist the slight giggle that tricked its way out.

"Ha, ha," Yamato mocked, still not recovered from his blush.  "Besides, that's different."

"I don't see how," Daisuke admitted innocently before giving Yamato a wink.

"That's not funny."  Yamato seemed in a real pout now, scrunching himself up as small as possible.

"Okay, okay," Daisuke soothed, "No more teasing," he promised, letting a few fingers glide through Yamato's hair in a calming movement before catching himself and pulling the hand away again.  He waited until Yamato was completely unfolded before nudging him back up into a sitting position.  After all, it was better to be safe than sorry.

"Takeru told me you were thinking about going back to school next semester," Daisuke began, looking for a safer topic.

"Yeah," Yamato concurred, if somewhat lackluster in his tone of voice.

"Well?  What will you study?"

Yamato's shoulder nudged Daisuke as he shrugged.  "I don't know," he admitted.

"What did you want to be when you were a kid?" Daisuke pushed.

"Easy.  An astronaut," Yamato answered quickly, his eyes sparkling a bit at the memory, "Do you think I'd make a good astronaut?"

"Hm, maybe," Daisuke smiled at the man next to him who, it seemed, had been reduced to an excited child at the very mention of space travel.  Yamato grinned at him.

"But I guess that's not too likely," he admitted a moment later, quite a bit more sober than before.  Daisuke just shrugged, saddened by the change in tone.

"I suppose I could always study government, take the foreign ministry exam.  It's what Taichi's did."

"Aww, that's so sweet," Daisuke mocked good-naturedly, "Willing to follow his true love anywhere."

"What would you know, Mr. I haven't time to date?" Yamato teased back.

"Hey!  I've dated," Daisuke insisted.

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah," Daisuke fell silent for a moment as he made up his mind.  Finally working up all of his gumption he continued, "I was even dating before you!"

Yamato was quick to take the bait, "Really?  Who?"

"Well, I really shouldn't say anything," Daisuke hedged, though he was nearly jumping with excitement at the idea of spilling the so-called beans, "But Ken and I…"

"Ken?" Yamato finally managed a stunned sputter.  Daisuke repressed the urge to give an insane little giggle at his obvious surprise.  Instead, he chose to nod his affirmation.

"No way.  Ken?" Yamato felt the need to ask yet again.  "But he's been with Miyako since, well, since forever."

"Well, I guess that means he was with me before forever."

"Ken?"

Okay, now the whole repeating of the name thing was getting a little old.  Daisuke nodded again.

"When?" Yamato seemed to need just a bit more proof.  Only this would not be as easy to explain.  Daisuke chewed his lip for a second as he tried to figure how to get out of the hole he had just dug for himself.

"Was it right after he became good?" Yamato queried again when Daisuke failed to form a response.

"Umm, close to then," Daisuke winced.

It would have been obvious to anyone just how uncomfortable Daisuke had almost instantly become with the entire conversation, but rather than causing Yamato to back off with his questions, it only piqued his interest all the more.

"How close?"

"Ah," Daisuke scooted a cushion's distance away from the expectantly waiting Yamato before continuing, "I guess we called it off about a month before."

"You dated the Kaiser."  It was the first time in a long time that the words exiting Yamato's mouth had not been in the form a question.  This did not make Daisuke feel any better.

"Well, maybe I was being a little economical with the truth when I said we'd dated.  It was really more of a thing about sex," Daisuke hastened to clarify.

"You were sleeping with the Kaiser." 

Somehow, Daisuke did not think that his little rationalization helped.  He nodded. 

"The Kaiser?"  Great, they were back to the name thing.

"Yes."

Yamato's mouth worked wordlessly for a moment before he snapped it shut, leaning further back into the couch.

"Oh, come on!" Daisuke tried, more than a little desperately, "It's not that strange."

"It's not?  You just told me you spent your free time as a kid doing the one guy you were supposed to hate.  What's not strange about that?"

"It's not," Daisuke insisted before admitting, "Well, I guess it wasa _little_ twisted, but fun, too.  Except that it _was_ strange for a while; after he became good, I mean," Daisuke finished with a nervous titter.  

Yamato gave him a disbelieving stare for another few moments before continuing, "Because it _wasn't_ strange to date the kid who only wanted to destroy you and your friends."

Daisuke had to admit that he had somewhat of a point, _if_ one insisted upon looking at it in that light.  "Well, it's not like you've never done anything of which the others wouldn't approve," he chose his method of rebuttal, the classic, pot calling the kettle black technique.  

"I have?" Yamato, however, was not going to make it easy on him.

"Yes.  As I recall, a certain somebody once ran off only to come back and try to kill Taichi."  Daisuke nearly got up and did a little victory dance when Yamato began to stutter, for the moment completely forgetting about Daisuke's recent confession.

"How did you…?" Yamato questioned.  It had become an unspoken rule that that little fiasco could never be talked about ever again.  At least, it had after the time he punched Jyou in the nose for one too many of his little insinuations.

"Your brother's a gossip," Daisuke shrugged.

"Twerp," Yamato mumbled under his breath before pinning Daisuke with a look, "That was different.  I wasn't in my right mind.  You were," Yamato hesitated a bit, "Weren't you?"

To lie or not to lie, that was the question.  Unfortunately he did not have time to answer it, as Yamato concluded for himself, "You were.  I can't believe you.  Why didn't you guys ever tell anyone?"

Why indeed.  Daisuke refused to let is eyes roll at the question, "Because I imagine that it would be very tiring to go through this conversation that many times over."

"Hmm, good point," Yamato concurred, "Does _anyone_ else know?"  
"Miyako," Daisuke answered simply.

"You told the girlfriend?" it seemed to be the most shocking thing Yamato had heard so far, judging by the tone of his voice anyway.

But if asked, Daisuke would have no doubt understood Yamato's shock.  "Yeah," he answered a little breathlessly as he remembered that night, "Word to the wise," he continued, catching Yamato's eyes, "if you ever get on Miyako's bad side, she punches with her left, not the right like you might expect."

Yamato winced a bit in sympathy, "I'll keep that in mind.  You're crazy, you know that, right?"

"You have no idea," Daisuke answered for the second time that afternoon.  Still, Yamato could not be too bothered by Daisuke's weirdness, as he had somehow managed to scoot so that they were once again sitting right next to each other despite the distance Daisuke had placed between them before his little announcement of sorts.

"That whole seeing you squirm thing" Yamato spoke up suddenly, "Before or after that?"

Daisuke shook his head a bit as he remembered, "Before.  Yeah, I know," he admitted at Yamato's shocked look, "I nearly lay down and died.  But then, Ken always has had a bit of a sadistic streak."

"I kind of noticed," Yamato responded dryly.

"I got him back though."

"I don't want to know," he was assured.  Still Daisuke could not help the slightly evil smirk that formed on his lips.

Yamato gave a bit of a shudder, "Daisuke, you're twisted." Daisuke opened his mouth to give is typical reply but was cut off, "I know, I know, I have no idea."  

"Nope," Daisuke confirmed with a smile before becoming serious, "But you can never, ever tell another soul.  Ken will kill me.  I mean it!"

"Don't worry," Yamato assured him, "Your secret is forever safe with me.  I promise."

"Seriously Yamato," Daisuke insisted for a second time, only relaxing when Yamato motioned to suggest the zipping and locking of his mouth.  

They lapsed into a strange silence, both content with sorting out their own thoughts until, nearly twenty minutes later, Yamato felt the need to ask, just one more time, "The Kaiser!?!"

+++++++++++

"Ichijouji," Ken seemed especially clipped.  He must have a lot of work to get done today.  Well, no bother.

"Hey baby," liquid warmth followed by a deep chuckle.

"What is it Daisuke?  I'm busy."

Daisuke allowed a deep sigh to filter through the phone line.  "Aren't you always?"  When Ken did not respond, he continued, "Shouldn't your best friend be more important than a bunch of useless paperwork?"

"He is.  We just had the most interesting and lengthy conversation.  Now state your point or get off the damn phone."

"Ouch," Daisuke flinched, "Miyako's holding out on you just before the wedding, isn't she."  He got no response, not that he had expected one.  When it came to the secrets of his bedroom, Ken was as tight lipped as a nun.  And if it had not been for Daisuke's knowledge of Miyako, he would have believed that Ken got as much action as said holy women.  Still, it was fun to fluster his normally all too cool friend.

"Well, if you're going to be that way," Daisuke continued after a few more second's pause, "I was just calling to warn you that Takeru will be coming to your place about nine Friday night to whisk you to your _surprise_ bachelor party.  In case you wanted to prepare yourself…"

"Hn," Ken picked up on the deeper implications, "Thanks for the heads-up, Daisuke."

"You know me, always willing to foil yet another of Takeru's plans," Daisuke grinned.

"Don't even try and blame this on Takeru.  I would hate for innocents to get hurt after Miyako finds out you didn't invite her," Ken paused and Daisuke heard his all too well known about-to-broach-a-touchy-topic intake of breath.  "Speaking of blonds…" he began delicately, as if he hoped that Daisuke would take over the conversation.

"Yes?" Daisuke was all to well versed in Ken's use of traps.  If he had something to say, then he would have to say it.  There was another long pause before Ken felt it necessary to continue.

"Rumor has it that you've been spending a lot of time with Yamato lately."

"You're gossiping now?  How come you always refuse to gossip with me?"

"Don't try to change the subject, Daisuke." Ken intoned, "Have you or have you not spent the last four days all but connected by the hip to Ishida Yamato?"

"No pun intended, I'm sure," Daisuke hedged, still trying to avoid the question.  And again, there was no response from Ken.  Daisuke was sure that Ken was trying to get him to say more than he wanted by creating this uncomfortable silence.  Well, he was not going to let him win.  No, he was stronger than that; Motomiya Daisuke was strong enough to withstand even the most devious of Ken's mind games.  He—"We're just friends!"—flinched as he heard his voice take on it's all too common defensive tone.

"I figured as much," Ken let out a resigned sigh, "This isn't going to be easy.  Does Taichi know yet?"

Daisuke felt his stomach jump and then curl with that strange mixture of horror and excitement that he had not felt in a long time.  "There's nothing for Taichi to know.  Yamato and I are just friends," he insisted for the second time.

Another heart-felt sigh from his best friend, "Daisuke, please." Ken called his bluff, "I know you better than anyone."  Yes, Daisuke had to admit that that much was, indeed, true, but then, he had never been the type to cave.

"Ken!  He's dating Taichi!"  Daisuke had promised himself that he would toe a calmer line.  Such promises were always too easy to make late some sleepless night, whilst cataloging one's life.  _All_ too easy.

"Hmm, yes, I seem to recall someone having said as much."  Sarcastic Ken was back in full bloom.  He must have been more worried then he had a first let on, Daisuke noted.

"Ken, look," Daisuke soothed, "Yamato is my friend, but so is Taichi, and I would never do anything that could destroy either of those relationships.  They both mean too much to me."

"Yeah, just like—"

"Ken." Daisuke quickly cut off the bitter phrase, "Stupid kids do stupid things.  But everyone's grown up now and nobody is going to get hurt," he promised.

"Famous last words," Ken chided.  Still, he seemed to be slipping back into his previous mood and that made Daisuke feel better, that is, until he heard the all too distinctive crack of a whip.

"Is that…" Daisuke trailed off questioningly.

"It is.  Hikari got it for her.  Don't ask me where."

"Is that Daisuke?" he heard Miyako ask, no doubt now hanging over Ken's shoulder.  Ken must have nodded because she continued, "Well tell him I still haven't received his wedding present.  It had better be here by Saturday if he knows what's good for him."  Daisuke flinched as he heard the whip crack again.

"Miyako say's that she hasn't received your present yet," Ken passed the message along.

"Yeah.  Need to do that," Daisuke admitted

"And make sure you tell him that only a real creep would hang out with someone who already has a boyfriend when he could be out shopping for a WEDDING PRESENT for his true friends," Miyako interjected.

"Miyako sends her love," Ken relayed.

"Well," Daisuke began in patently false tones, "Tell Miya that she can take her love and shove it where the sun doesn't shine."

There was a pause as Ken motioned for Miyako's attention before Daisuke heard, "Daisuke loves you, too." 

"Nine o'clock, Ken," Daisuke reminded, preparing to bring the phone conversation to an end.

"I got it," Ken assured him, "I'm not the one who showed up to work an hour early, remember?"

"Yeah, Yeah," Daisuke accepted the ribbing with out complaint before saying his goodbyes and hanging the receiver back on the hook.  He stared at the phone a moment longer before giving his head a derisive shake.  Who had told Ken?  That was the question.  Daisuke would be willing to lay money on the fact that the news traveled from Takeru to Hikari to Miyako and then to Ken.

Daisuke made a mental note to strangle Takeru before shaking the fleeting thought away.  What did he care if Takeru had mentioned to his girlfriend that he and Yamato had been hanging out together?  It was completely innocent after all, completely innocent.  He let the thought loll about in is head for a moment before forcefully snatching the phone back off the cradle to call Yamato like earlier promised.  

Daisuke growled as he punched in the proper numbers.  It was no wonder that Ken had not believed him.  He could hardly believe himself.

+++++++++++

"Hey, Dude!  Your coat!"

"Thanks," Daisuke quickly nodded as he reached back inside to grab the almost forgotten article of clothing.  "My friend would have killed me if I left this here."  He tossed everyone another wave goodbye before heading out into the cold night.

"I'd have hardly killed you." Ken spoke just inches from Daisuke's back.  It was all Daisuke could do to keep his heart from stopping all together.  "Like I said before," Ken continued with out pause, "There are many ways to make a person wish they were dead without actually committing any illegal acts."  He paused in his speech for a second as he stepped up so that he now stood even with Daisuke.  "Well, perhaps _without_ is a bit too idealistic," he clarified, "but close enough."

"God, Ken!" Daisuke finally managed to expel the breath that had tried to choke him; "I hate it when you do that!"

"I know."  Ken started to trek in the general direction of Daisuke and Takeru's apartment. 

"So?  Do what to I owe the pleasure of this late night visit?" Daisuke hurried to catch back up with him.

"Oh, I was just wondering if there was any particular reason why I would have been assaulted on my way out of work by Yamato, demanding to know if we had really been together when I was the Kaiser?" Ken queried back as way of answer.  Daisuke really wished he had not asked.

"I _may_ have mentioned something about it to him," he hedged, cringing when he caught Ken's glare.  They walked in silence until Daisuke was convinced that Ken's ire had returned to a safer level.  

"What did you tell him?" Daisuke finally worked up the courage to ask.  At first, he did not think that Ken would respond, but finally, after another dirty look and a not so happy grumble, Ken answered.

"I told him that you were a damn good fuck and if he had two brain cells to rub together, he'd jump you while you were still free."

Daisuke stopped cold, smack-dab in the middle of the street that they had been crossing and just stood and watched as Ken continued on across and then down the sidewalk.  Finally, what was left of his wits returned to him, thanks to the delivery truck honking its wish to cross through the intersection.

"Yeah right!" Daisuke called, preferring to rely on disbelief as he jogged to catch back up.  "Ken?" he questioned less assuredly as said friend refused to respond.  Ken did not even bat an eyelash.  Hopelessness threatened to overcome Daisuke as he begged one last time, "Please.  Tell me you did not say that!"

"Well what did you expect me to say," Ken finally graced his pained friend with an answer, "I was just being honest."

"Argh!" Daisuke gave the well-wrapped Ken a shove, "I don't care what anybody says.  You haven't changed a bit," he complained.

Ken shrugged, "I don't know what you're so upset about.  He seemed pretty excited about the idea if you ask me."  It took Daisuke a moment to figure out that the normally oh-so-serious Ken was joking.  He just shook his head before giving Ken another rough nudge with his shoulder.

"Do I really want to know how much of what you just said is true?" Daisuke asked.  Ken's evil smirk was more than enough to convince him that: no, he did not.  "All right then," Daisuke conceded, "Will you at least tell me what's got you all but dancing on my tombstone?"

"Now, now," for once Ken was the one doing the soothing, "If Yamato's really interested, then nothing I could say would scare him away."  Ken quickly placed a gloved finger against Daisuke's lips before the inevitable denial could escape and keep him from continuing, "I quit my job today."

There were few things in this world that could wipe all other thought out of Daisuke's mind, but this was one of them.  Ken had always been one to view his work as sacred above all else.  He would have gone to the ends of the earth if he thought it would make him a better employee.  For him to just up and quit was unfathomable.

"Why?" Daisuke finally managed to stutter, despite the still present finger begging his silence.

Ken let out a heartfelt sigh before giving a shrug.  "I just hated it there.  I hated doing that, and I wanted to leave."  He seemed saddened by the lost ideology more than anything else.  "But don't tell Miyako.  I want to."

"No," Daisuke agreed.

"Thank you," Ken graced Daisuke with a soft smile as he stopped.  They were right outside of his apartment complex, Daisuke noted, though how they had gotten there he could not really be sure.

"I'll see you tomorrow," Ken promised.

"Yeah," Daisuke smiled, "See you."  He watched as his friend continued along the sidewalk towards his own home.

+++++++++++

Daisuke had been avoiding anything even related to alcohol all evening.  It's not like he needed something else to make the evening more difficult to control.  No, Yamato and Ken were doing a fine job of that all on their own.  If he made it out of the bar alive, he swore he would become a god-fearing man.

It had all started out innocently enough, as these things always do.  Daisuke had picked a hole-in-the-wall bar that everyone said had an absolutely great atmosphere, karaoke and, on select nights, live entertainment.  Mind you, select nights did not include this one and so they were left with a damp sort of smoky atmosphere and an ancient karaoke machine.  Not that anyone was complaining.

"Miss Farad was pretty and sensual  
And charged to a reckless potential;  
But a rascal named Ohm  
Conducted her home  
Her decline was, _alas_, exponential."

No, no one was complaining.  In fact, all you had to do was get a few drinks in Ken and he turned into a regular party animal.  Koushiro laughed and Iori snickered a little behind his hand, though Daisuke was not really sure that the latter had understood the bizarre limerick any better than he.

But limericks were good.  Limericks were safe.  Well, at least the sort of limericks that came from a drunk Ken.

"Does he always do that when he drinks?"  The voice was smoky, deep, everything that whispered jibes were supposed to be, especially when they came from tall, blond ex-musicians.  

But herein lay the problem: It was easy enough to convince himself that there was nothing going on between he and Yamato when they were hanging out together, far, far away from the prying eyes of their other friends.  After all, good friends were supposed to be that close, right?  Right.  But with said voice's long time boyfriend sitting across the table as he whispered disparaging remarks about another friend's rhyming ability in _your_ ear, his arm draped across the back of _your_ seat, this became much, much more difficult to justify. 

Daisuke brushed off Yamato's question with a shrug, scooting just a smidge closer to Ken as if there were something he was planning to say.  A move nobody at the table failed to notice.  Of course, leave it to Yamato to turn seven nonverbal questions into one very verbal one.

"Is something wrong?"

"No."  It was all he could really bring himself to say.

His plans had been so innocent.  After all, karaoke was a good idea for sober, perceptive people.  Unfortunately, karaoke rarely appealed to sober, perceptive people, and so it was a very un-sober, un-perceptive Yamato who decided it would be a great idea to crone love song's to Daisuke whilst under his much too recently disenchanted boyfriend's increasingly upset eyes.

That was not to suggest that Ken's neither confirm nor deny attitude had done anything to help the evening along.

In the end though, Daisuke could probably blame the entire fiasco on Koushiro.  After all, he was the one who thought it would be a good idea to ask if there were anything going on between Daisuke and Yamato.  And, as was bound to happen when you had just spent the entire evening concluding that the only purpose to the past week of your life was to destroy the friendships you were supposed to hold so dear, Daisuke went just a tad over the top.

"I don't know where _you_ get off saying anything.  Every time I see _you_ you're trailing after Taichi like a little puppy dog.  Maybe we should ask _you_ what's going on."  He supposed this is where people got the idea that the guilty were always defensive.  

"Excuse me," Koushiro stuttered, "What's—I mean,—huh?" 

"Well?" It was too late to save face now, anyway.

"No!  What are you trying to say?"  This was where he could bring up Koushiro's own defensive response, but that would probably leave him a little too open.  Besides, with most of the table now staring at Koushiro with their mouth's hung open, it seemed cruel to focus the attention back on himself.

Daisuke's failure to respond only further spurred Koushiro's indignation, "What?  Because I'm friends with a gay guy, that makes me gay too?  Where's the logic in that?  After all, wouldn't that make Ken gay?"

"No," Daisuke finally answered, "I mean, there is no logic.  You two just spend a lot of time together.  That's all I was saying."

And things could have ended right there.  Everyone would have gone home relatively happy, if slightly suspicious.  But no, this was where Yamato felt the need to assert himself.

"Oh, bad analogy."

It took Koushiro longer than it would have normally to figure out just what Yamato was saying, but when he did, "And you've never told anyone?" he asked Daisuke point blank.

But before Daisuke could even come up with a semi-plausible response, Yamato cut back in, "It gets worse," he told the table in his most conspiratorial tone, "This was happening when Ken was still the bad guy."

"Yamato!" Daisuke all but shrieked.   Ken laid a calming hand on his arm, leaning across the table to say something that Daisuke was sure would completely exonerate them both.  How wrong his was.

"Hey, I was never really bad," Ken explained, "I was just misguided."

"You…you dated the Kaiser?" Taichi asked, astonished at what he was hearing.

"Well," Yamato clarified, "They weren't really dating.  It was more just a thing about sex."  If Yamato had intended for his statement to be calming, he fell far short.

"You were FUCKING the KAISER?!"  No, no, Taichi was definitely not calmed, but rather was earning their little group more than a few strange stares.

Daisuke quickly slapped a hand over Yamato's mouth to keep any more untoward words from exiting, and hurried to explain, "It was just a short term thing, it never interfered with my fight for the digital world, and most of all, it has been over for years.  Okay?"

Through out the short speech and continuing afterward, he kept his hand clamped firmly over Yamato's big mouth.  So much for _I promise to keep it to myself_, he thought bitterly.  At least Ken was too drunk to care.  Daisuke only wished that he could say the same.

Taichi took a deep breath, seeming to consider Daisuke's statement.  Finally he just nodded, though it was obvious to everyone that his heart was not quite as into it as Daisuke had hoped.  Still, it was a real good start.

"But nothing's going on between you two?" Taichi felt the need to confirm, motioning between Yamato and Daisuke.  And suddenly Daisuke found himself presented with yet another perfect chance to escape, only this time, he was thwarted by Ken.  

"Sure.  That's why Yamato was singing: And Iieiei, will allllways—" Daisuke clamped his other hand over Ken's mouth at the last second, causing the love to exit as more of a straining wuv.

It was sarcastic and Ken was most definitely drunk.  Under any other circumstance, it may have been completely ignored.  This, however, was not any other circumstance.  It was a bomb waiting to go off.  And with both hands tied up trying to keep his idiot friends quiet, Daisuke was in no position to protect himself.

And that would have been the end of it if it were not for Iori.  

"Takeru," he began calmly, as if the table's previous conversation for the night consisted of comments about the weather rather than who was doing what with whom and behind who's back, "Help me.  I've been trying to remember the one about the girl from Nantucket," Sonorous, serious, and most of all, leading the conversation in a completely new direction.

Daisuke sent a quick prayer for forgiveness to the heavens for not having appreciated the boy more.  Or at the very least, for not appreciating his innate need to resolve any and all forms of conflict.

"You know a girl from Nantucket?"  Takeru, on the other hand, was not as quick to follow the change in topic.

"No, no, no," Iori clarified, "It's a limerick that starts: There once was a girl from Nantucket.  The last word of the second line has to rhyme with Nantucket.  But I can't remember."

"Bucket?"  Takeru suggested, only to have the idea nixed by Iori within microseconds. 

"I heard it with a man," Jyou told them, "There once was a man from Nantucket/Whose dick was so long he could—"

"No, this was a girl," Iori hastily cut in, before taking a deep breath and adding, "My grandfather told me this one."

"Tuck it?" Koushiro was next to suggest a possibility.  At the strange looks, he clarified, "Like took it, but not.  _She tuck it_.  It's slang."

"No."  Apparently even Iori had limits to what he could gracefully accept.

"Oh, fuck it."  It took Daisuke a moment to realize that Taichi's little outburst was not a suggestion for the second line of the limerick, but rather a declaration directed solely at him.  He had just enough time to note the fist coming in his direction before closing his eyes in what he hoped was a manly grimace.  

Perhaps he just needed to make himself a sign:

Motomiya Daisuke,   
world-class punching bag!

_There once was a man named Daisuke,  
Whose friendships, for granted, he tookie,  
But in a bar, late one night,  
He got in a fight,  
And now his name is just Dookie._

To Be Continued…  
----  
Author's note 3:  Sorry about rhyming with Dai-su-ke, rather than the actual pronunciation of his name (i.e. more of a Dais-kay which would have thrown off my syllables anyway—no comments about taking the lazy way out, alright?).  :)

Author's note 4: Ken's limerick is not mine, but rather belongs to APA and their limerick contest.  Who says nerds don't have lives?  Hmmm?  Hmmm?  I thought so!

[jamalynrascher@yahoo.com] 


	5. White Wedding

Disclaimer: I do not own Digimon.

Sorry about the formatting difficulties.  I don't know what the problem is. :)  
  


**Absolutions:**

**White Wedding**

"It's a nice day for a white wedding.  
It's a nice day to start again."  
~Billy Idol

  
_You know, this dream could almost pass for interesting when he did not know exactly how it was going to end. Almost, but not quite. He scuffed the soles of his shoes along the slick stones of the path as he made his way towards the edge of the cliff. Perhaps today he would just jump, take a flying leap and see if he could not just finish everything before he woke up. _

_  
Yeah. What were the chances of that ever happening? Lately it had seemed as if the world was out to deny him every possible whim. Like fate had somehow tricked him into revealing each and every wish he had ever dreamed just so she could see that he would never, ever actually receive it. Stupid fate._

_He paused a moment to stare at one of the blooming trees that lined the path. They really were beautiful. He'd once been told that dreams were little more than flashes of electricity through his brain, his body's way of cleaning, of dumping old useless memories into nonsensical heaps and then recombining them as new. But looking at this tree, he was not so sure. Where had he ever seen anything like that? And if he had, how could he have forgotten it? He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to force his brain to remember from which memory it had originally taken this tree. No such luck._

_"Why should I remember you?" his mind asked the tree, "And why should you remember me?" His eyes followed a shallow depression in the earth that ran between the trees and right up to where the man dressed all in brown stood. "I suppose that's too much to ask."_

_"Well, here's to you," he nodded, first at the tree and then in the direction of the man before bunching his muscles in preparation for the anticipated burst of speed._

_"And here goes nothing." He felt his feet began to slip on the stones as he propelled himself forward. The edge was only a few feet away. If he could only keep his precarious traction for a few seconds more, he would..._

+++++++++++

Ken was shaking him awake, rather too violently, or so Daisuke believed. 

"You kick," he was tersely informed. Ken held him at arms length for a moment as he studied Daisuke's choice in sleepwear. "Why are you wearing one of Miyako's nightshirts?" he finally worked up the courage to ask, not entirely sure he wanted to know the answer.

Daisuke took his own long, deeply disturbed look at the frilly pink cotton get-up; "I couldn't find any thing of yours that fit."

"Well that color does wonders for you complexion," Ken groaned as he fought to move into sitting position only to teeter uncertainly on the edge of the bed.

"That's not funny," Daisuke groused.

"Neither is the way I feel. I want some drugs." Ken finally managed to rise to his feet and after pausing for a second to get his bearings, began to stagger in the direction of his kitchen.

"I could have warned you..." Daisuke began.

"But you didn't," he was reminded. 

"Try drinking lots of water," Daisuke suggested, calling after Ken, who must not have made it very far as he was still able to poke his head around the door and give Daisuke a thoroughly dirty look.

"Try not yelling so loud."

"Right, sorry." Daisuke whispered, crawling out of the bed to help his ill friend along. When the finally managed to stumble into the kitchen, Daisuke sat Ken down at the table and began rummaging to find the requested aspirin. Giving up, he broke down and asked, "Where have you hidden it Ken?"

"M's," came the pained groan. Daisuke easily found the correct cabinet and after only the most minimal of probing, the aspirin.

"Care to explain why you would have **a**spirin with the M's?" Daisuke asked, putting special emphasis on the A of aspirin, just in case Ken was not aware that the word aspirin did indeed, start with an A. He set the offending pills on the table in front of Ken before turning to run a glass of water.

"M is for medicine," Ken informed him, accepting the damp glass and swallowing the pills, "I didn't have many M's and I wanted it to be even."

"You're weird Ken."

Ken brushed the humored statement off with a wave of his hand, "At least I don't look like a raccoon," he teased. Daisuke fingered the tender tissue around his left eye. It had been aching ever since he had gotten up but he had not yet worked up the courage to look in a mirror.

"How bad?" Daisuke asked carefully. Ken cocked his head as he studied Daisuke's face.

"Well," he hedged, "At least the table prevented Taichi from getting _that_ great of an angle."

"But will Miyako notice?" Ah, the true question was finally out on the table, and it did not seem that Daisuke would get the answer he wanted, not judging by Ken's flinch, anyway.

"I don't know Daisuke," Ken began hopelessly, "Have you ever considered an extended vacation?"

"I've always wanted to see a America."

"Then maybe now is a good time. But first, I'd change. After all, we wouldn't want to give them the wrong impression, now would we?"

+++++++++++

So, _the_ day was finally upon them. _The_ day of horrors unimaginable, of deepest fears brought to fruition. _The_ day that in planning had brought Daisuke countless hours of sadistic pleasures, Ken and Miyako's wedding. 

And now Ken had all but tied his hands behind is back. Life just was not fair!

"I mean it Daisuke. Let her alone." I must have been the fiftieth time that Ken had reiterated his command, and that was only counting their drive.

"I got it, I got it," Daisuke mumbled in the direction of the passing scenery.

"Daisuke..."

"Ken!" Daisuke answered bit, every bit as exasperated as Ken's previous statement had been wary, "I'm not going to do anything. I was never even going to do anything. This is all in your head!" After all, since when did white lies hurt anything.

Daisuke's little explosions had long since stopped having any effect on Ken, "Hn. Just how stupid do you think I am?" he questioned calmly.

"Pretty stupid," Daisuke mumbled almost inaudibly under his breath, once more choosing to focus on the street side. He hunched a bit, expecting retaliation, but unsure as to how Ken would reciprocate.

He nearly jumped out the window at Ken's calm answer, "We're here." Daisuke shot out of the car, completely ignoring the grinning Takeru who had come to help them carry everything inside.

"Trouble in paradise?" Takeru joked as both he and Ken watched Daisuke skulk of to find Miyako as earlier promised.

"I told him he had to leave Miyako alone today." Ken's voice had taken on a steely determination.

Takeru turned to his dark haired friend with a sigh, "Aw, man. Poor guy, he's been planning this one for months."

"This is serious Takeru." There was no denying the slight wistfulness to Ken's voice. He hated to deny Daisuke anything, especially something like this, but this was important, or so he reminded himself for the thousandth time that morning. "It's serious," he repeated out loud in hopes of confirming his mindset.

"I know, I know," Takeru hastened to clarify, lest he suddenly find himself subject to the continual grilling that Daisuke had no doubt been subjected to all morning, "I was just saying."

"Good. Because the last thing I need is someone to egg him on."

"Poor guy," Takeru mumbled again before speaking up, "Where's he heading."

"Miyako," came the grim reply.

+++++++++++

Daisuke did his best to peer through the smoky glass into the dressing room only to be able to make out a vague white smudge. He shrugged before easing the door open. After all, white meant she was dressed, right? Dear God, he hoped so.

"Miya?" he questioned quietly, casting uneasy glances about the room whilst making sure that he could escape quickly if necessary. "You here?"

"Daisuke? Is that you?" Something had skittered behind a folding room-divider and now cautiously peeked around the edge.

"Yeah."

"Oh good," came the relieved sigh, "Can you help me with my obi?"

"Sure. Just turn around," Daisuke suggested before moving behind the screen. Miyako smiled as Daisuke worked the cloth easily.

"Sometimes I'm really thankful you're more girl than boy. I've never been able to tie these blasted things."

"Cute," Daisuke intoned giving the wide belt more of a jerk that was absolutely necessary, "Besides, if you weren't so helpless I wouldn't have so much practice." He glanced over her shoulder at the rest of her bridal ensemble waiting for its turn later that day. "I'm glad you chose the red uchikake. It's much more suited to you than all this white," he joked.

"Daisuke!"

"I'm teasing, I'm teasing," he confessed, "You look very pretty." He patted the elaborate knot to tell her he was done.

"Why are you being so nice to me?" She asked just as she began turning around.

Daisuke's final thought was that she really _was_ better suited to the color red.

+++++++++++

"Miyako?" Takeru asked, "Why Miya?"

Ken let out a gusty sigh, "When she sees that black eye, Miyako's going to go mad, so I made him promise to tell her right away. The fewer guests that are here to hear her, the better."

"So I guess Taichi got him pretty good then, eh?" Takeru deduced, hastening to explain at Ken's look, "I didn't get a chance to see." 

Ken was just about to assure him that he most certainly had when the air was pierced by a blood-curdling scream. 

+++++++++++

Takeru arrived at the dressing room door just after Hikari, who seemed to be hesitating in her best friend duty of checking to see who or what was attempting to kill the bride.

"Whoa, give them a second," Takeru begged, pulling his girlfriend back just before she allowed her ultimate burst of courage to take her into the battle zone.

"What's going on?" she whispered, only to jump as her answer came, somewhat surprisingly, through the door.

"**BECAUSE YOU'RE ACTING AS THE GOBETWEEN. HOW'S IT GOING TO LOOK WITH YOU STANDING UP THERE WITH A BLACK EYE?**"

"Daisuke?" Hikari asked. Takeru nodded. "When did this happen?"

"Last night. Taichi," came Takeru's cryptic response.

"Yamato?"

"Mmm-hmmm." 

"**I SAID THAT I WAS SORRY. WHAT ELSE CAN I DO?**"

"**WELL I'M SORRY BUT YOUR I'M SORRY DIDN'T SEEM SINCERE WHEN YOU WERE _SCREAMING_ IT AT ME!**"

"**I'M SORRY!**"

"For the love of—, would someone please make them stop?" 

Hikari and Takeru both turned to see a pained looking Ken rubbing his temples.

"It's okay, I've got it," Takeru answered, once more pulling Hikari back from the brink of hell. "Stay out here with Ken where it's safer," he compelled her gently. 

Takeru opened the door just in time to keep Miyako from cracking open Daisuke's head with her ceremonial sword. 

"Now, now, we don't want to add any more bruises," he soothed, doing his best to pry the wooden instrument from her locked grip.

"Have you seen him?" Miyako asked all too incredulously, "He's ruining everything!" Takeru, finally managing to wrestle the sword away from her, turned his attention to Daisuke. Yes. He had a black eye. But it was not excessively swollen and so Takeru continued to hold on to his nearly endless supply of hope.

"No, no, stop worrying. This is do-able," he argued, pushing Daisuke into the closest chair. "Hikari?" Takeru called now that the ire that had perfused the room mere seconds before had lessened to safer levels, "Did you bring any make-up?"

She popped her head around the door with a confused look, "Yes."

"I think we're going to need it in here."

+++++++++++

Three consultations, the arrival of Mimi and one trip to the local drug store later (Who would have thought that Hikari would wear a lighter shade of base than Daisuke? Not Takeru), they finally managed to get Daisuke's black eye fairly well concealed. Well, concealed enough to assure Miyako that it would not be seen by any of the guests or in the wedding photographs.

"Oh, do you think we should add some lipstick?"

Daisuke shuddered at the very thought. "No," he answered Mimi's question a little too forcibly, "I'm done. You're done. We're Done." Mimi pouted a bit at his tone.

"I wasn't gong to suggest anything dark. No one would even be able to tell. You'd just look nicer. Guys do it all the time on television shows."

"No!"

"It's okay," Takeru comforted his friend, "Daisuke's just had a rough couple of days. I'm sure he doesn't mean to snap at you." He gave the brown haired girl a bit of a squeeze, "It's not your fault." Takeru had once, as a very young child, made the mistake of referring to Mimi's hair as being a kind of dirty dishwater blonde. He had not seen her natural color since.

Mimi must not have been overly hurt as she and Miyako had already adjourned to the other side of the room where what ever it was that they were discussing required lots of giggles and a few knowing looks at Ken.

Takeru did not want to know.

+++++++++++

Daisuke cocked his head to listen to the flight call over the airport intercom. "Well, I guess that's just about it," he told his two friends, "Look's like this is your last chance to escape Ken."

"Daisuke..." Ken warned.

"What? I'm just saying if you want to run, give me the signal and I'll distract her for you. After all, what are friends for?" Still, despite his teasing, Daisuke smiled at them both, reaching down to help Ken gather their onboard luggage. 

"Oh yeah, I almost forgot," Ken was looking at a post-it note stuck to the back of his ticket, "Here," he handed the note over to Daisuke, "In case you wanted to give him a call."

"Him?" Daisuke questioned, studying the twelve-digit number. Something about it looked all too familiar.

"Yeah," Ken adjusted the bag over his shoulder before leaning in to whisper in Daisuke's ear, "Go get a piece of that ass."

To say that Daisuke nearly choked would have been an understatement. As it was, he stumbled back more than a few inches. By the time he looked up, Ken and Miyako had almost made it past the ticket desk.

"What? Hey, Ken wait!"

"Plane, Daisuke," he was calmly reminded, "They have been known to take off with out everyone on board."

"I just—I mean—Uhh—This isn't funny!" Daisuke finally managed to spit out his thoughts.

"I wasn't joking." Ken and Miyako both turned to walk though the connector to the waiting plane.

"Wait! Miyako!"

"What is it?" she was getting more than a little impatient.

"I just—I wanted to wish you a happy honeymoon," Daisuke paused for a second before continuing, "And I swear to God that I was _not_ the one that put _it_ in your bag." He placed a solemn hand over his heart, trying not to stumble backwards again at the narrowed look he received.

"He knows better," Ken assured Miyako, beginning to pull her towards the gate by her elbow at the flight attendants insistent request, "Tell her you know better Daisuke," he called back over his shoulder.

"Of course, that's what I said wasn't it?" he waived them a goodbye, waiting until they were out of earshot to tell a nearby chair in his best sing-song voice, "But that doesn't mean I didn't talk Takeru into doing it for me."

+++++++++++

Life was boring. Ken and Miyako were gone. Takeru had taken Hikari on some sort of spring break camping trip. Iori was back at home (not that Daisuke could really see himself calling the boy up anyway.) He was not talking to Yamato and Taichi was not talking to him. Yes. Life was boring.

And so, when the doorbell rang a few minutes later, Daisuke's reaction was bordering on the ecstatic. That is, until he looked through the peephole.

Daisuke threw the door open. "What?" he growled. Big blue eyes threatened to tear over at his tone but Daisuke remained steadfast.

"Is Takeru still here?" Yamato asked timidly. Daisuke had never seen him look more like a cornered rabbit. He fought the urge to sooth the boy.

"He left early this morning," Daisuke replied, a bit more kindheartedly then he had wanted.

"Oh. Um," Yamato faltered, "I, um…" he seemed to be trying to ball up all his courage for one big go, "I mean, I was wondering if I could stay here for the night."

Daisuke took a moment to absorb the hastily spit out statement. His mind knew that he should just shut the door with out a reply, but somehow, the impulses were being blocked before they managed to reach the proper muscles.

"Daisuke?" Yamato begged, no doubt worried by Daisuke's uncharacteristic silence, if not the spasmodic twitching of his lower arm, "It's just one night. I promise. You won't even know I'm here and I'll go out and find an apartment tomorrow. It's a promise," he insisted for the second time.

"Fine," Daisuke finally accepted both Yamato's proposal and his own inability to deny the man. Besides, he was not entirely convinced that Yamato would leave if he had said no, "I guess it will keep me from throwing myself off the roof out of sheer boredom," he shrugged, slamming the door shut again before stomping back to where he had been slouched on the couch. Sure. Now the damned arm worked.

After a few more seconds, Daisuke heard the sound of the door creaking back open, along with that of more than a few cases being deposited on the floor, as lightly as possible no doubt. Another set of unnaturally quiet moments passed as Yamato tiptoed to just before the living room's door. A second later and the tall blond form was seen dashing across the living room doorway towards Takeru's empty room. 

Daisuke waited until he heard the click of the door closing before he let out the giggle at Yamato's attempt to be inconspicuous. He considered going to talk him out of the bedroom before brushing the thought away. Let the man rot.

When later asked, Daisuke would say that he was proud of just how long his resolve had withstood the charm of a remorseful Yamato. But then, against such odds, three minutes would have seemed amazing. Daisuke managing for an entire fifteen was something he was planning on telling Ken's grandchildren about.

That was not to suggest that Yamato was, by any means, forgiven for his little bout of diarrhea of the mouth. No. That could very well take fifteen years. But Daisuke figured that if they were going to spend a night under the same roof then the least they could do was keep each other company. After all, was that not the very reason he had let Yamato into the apartment in the first place?

Daisuke tapped lightly on the bedroom door before walking in on Yamato, who was now busily trying to determine Takeru's computer password. He must not have been expecting company, because at Daisuke's suggestion that he try Patamon, he squealed and nearly leapt off of the chair.

"I tried that already," Yamato answered, once he had gotten his composure back.

"But did you try it with a capital p?" Daisuke insisted. Yamato shook his head no before retyping Patamon, this time capitalizing the first letter. Sure enough, it worked.

"Who capitalizes a password?" Yamato grumbled, waiting for the desktop to become accessible.

"Your brother has a thing about proper grammar."

"I thought you weren't talking to me?" Yamato asked a second later, not failing to notice that Daisuke was still standing directly over his shoulder, he not having moved since entering.

"Now why would you have thought that?" Daisuke queried in return, holding up a stalling hand when Yamato made to answer the question, preferring to answer it him, "Because you told an entire bar my deepest, darkest secret or because Taichi isn't talking to me now, or maybe just because you betrayed my trust for the second time in less than a week? You think?" Daisuke finished slightly more forcefully than he had at first intended.

Yamato flinched at Daisuke's sharp tone, scrunching himself up as small as possible in the padded chair. "Well," he finally began slowly, "If it makes you feel any better, Taichi isn't talking to me, either." All he got for his effort was a more than frustrated growl as Daisuke threw his hands up into the air, almost seeming as if he would storm out of the room before he rounded on Yamato and all but embedded his trigger finger into his chest. If Yamato had ever meet a more upset Daisuke, he certainly could not remember it.

"No." Daisuke finally graced him with a coherent answer and another poke, "As a matter of fact, it does not. Why can't you people understand that saying those things never makes anyone feel better?"

"I _am_ sorry," Yamato's soft insistence more than proving the validly of the statement, though it had never even occurred to Daisuke that Yamato would have ever felt otherwise.

"I know," Daisuke admitted, dropping down to sit so that his head could rest on Yamato's knee, "I know you are. I'm just tired. That's really all that is wrong. I'm tired."

Daisuke did his best to pretend that he did not appreciate the comforting fingers that ran through his hair.

+++++++++++

Yamato fingered at the neat scrap of paper pinned to the cork board beside the telephone on which someone had written his cell phone number over which someone else had scrawled "He's dating Taichi," in big, bold, blood-red characters. He nearly squeaked aloud for the second time that day as Daisuke came up quickly behind him and snatched the note from its pin before crumpling it and dumping it in the trash.

"So I guess you do talk about me when I'm not here," Yamato did his best to joke at Daisuke's dark scowl.

"No. That's just Ken's idea of a joke. Ignore it."

"Did Ken get you the number of write the message?" Yamato pushed.

"Forget it," Daisuke insisted for the second time.

"Well you obviously pinned it up for a reason."

"No. Ken did that, too," Daisuke out-right lied, giving the blond a dirty look that seemed to challenge him to ask even one more question, "I just hadn't gotten around to taking it down. Are you hungry or not?"

"I'm hungry," Yamato conceded, letting the conversation drop, for the time being anyway. Daisuke pulled open the refrigerator only to stare at its nearly empty innards. After a few moments, he closed it with a sigh.

"I guess I should have stopped by the store on the way home today," he frowned, "Want to order out?"

"Hang on a second." Yamato gently nudged Daisuke away from the refrigerator, conducting his own momentary survey before starting to remove random leftovers, "This is _my _element," he assured Daisuke.

"I don't know," Daisuke winced as Yamato dumped a tub of ramen into a warming frying pan, "Some of that stuff's kind of old."

"Trust me," Yamato responded with an almost sadistic smirk, "You'll love it."

+++++++++++

Daisuke had been kicked out of his own kitchen, an insult he never could have borne under more normal circumstances. However, all things considered, if he were going to have to eat what ever it was that Yamato was cooking up, then he'd rather not know each and every ingredient. Some things were better left as mysteries. He used a pencil to mark the poison control number in the phone book before settling down on the couch.

Moments later he could almost smell something beginning to waft in his directions, though he could not convince himself that the something was indeed food and not something much more insidious.

Whatever questions there were in his mind, they were laid to rest a moment later when Yamato stuck an arm out the kitchen door to wave him over. Daisuke approached his once-safe haven hesitantly.

"Don't worry so much," Yamato groused before informing, "This is Takeru's favorite. I used to make it for him all the time."

"And that's supposed to calm my fears?" 

"Well, he's not dead, is he?" came the toneless reply.

Daisuke continued to eye the two plates warily. Now that he was closer, he had to admit that they actually smelled pretty good, and he was awful hungry. Gathering what was left of his childhood courage, he sat down picked up a pair of chopsticks.

Yamato quickly followed suit, taking the place directly opposite of Daisuke and, motioning for him to do the same, began to all but inhale the noodles. Shaking his head at the antithesis of the graceful musician feeding in front of him, Daisuke took a deep breath and gathering just enough food to qualify for a bite, threw caution to the wind.

It was not bad. But then it was not good either. Daisuke funneled another bite into his mouth, hoping that whatever had started growing in leftovers had been exterminated by Yamato's prep techniques. Either way, he figured he would know by the next morning.

"Good, isn't it?" Yamato grinned at his captive audience.

Daisuke, only now coming to realize why Ken had always made him dilute his wasabi in soy sauce, could only let out a shuddering gasp. Perhaps he should have taken the time to post the poison control number by the telephone.

+++++++++++

"It wasn't that bad."

"If you say so," Daisuke grabbed another slice of pizza out of the open box.

"It wasn't!"

Yamato reached for a slice for himself, only to have his hand slapped away by Daisuke, "Uh-Un. There's perfectly good food in the kitchen," Daisuke intoned, using the very same words that Yamato had when he insisted on ordering a pizza rather than finishing Yamato's _dinner_.

"Daisuke," a whining Yamato was not a pretty sight, nor was the way he kept pulling on Daisuke's sleeve causing pizza toppings to rain down upon couch and floor.

"Fine." Daisuke gave in, barely managing to jump out of the way before Yamato dove for the pizza box. "You can't possibly be that hungry," Daisuke complained, "You ate an entire plate of that other stuff."

"I'll have you know that I just happen to have a very fast metabolism. I have to eat a lot or I get hypoglycemic!" came the exceptionally huffy response.

"Yeah." Daisuke might have believed it if he had not heard Takeru use the exact same line to secure the last serving of ice cream. An old saying rang in his head, something about fruit never falling far from the tree.

But if Yamato noticed Daisuke's tone, he did not allow it to bother him, reaching instead for his second piece. Knowing that some of life's battles were not worth fighting, Daisuke nudged the box closer to the grasping blond. Besides, it was not like there was that much left anyway.

So preoccupied was he in deciding where, exactly, the food that Yamato kept inhaling was going, that it took Daisuke a moment to realize that Yamato was speaking to him again.

"Huh?"

"I asked if you hate me now."

Silence obviously was not the answer Yamato expected, and as each moment passed, the fidgeting in his hands kept attempting to develop into a full body twitch.

"Why are you here Yamato?" came the unexpected response.

"I—I mean, Taichi and I," Yamato trailed off for a moment, hoping to gather his thoughts, "We decided that," he waved a hand in the air as if attempting to encompass an imaginary world, "_things_ were never going to work out. So we called it off. For good, this time."

"Why are you _here_?"

Yamato fumbled at the direct question, "I—Takeru," he began.

"Please don't," Daisuke had not bought the unaware-that-Takeru-had-left act earlier that day, and he certainly was not going to let Yamato skate with it now.

Folding shut the now empty pizza box, Yamato stood from the couch, and turning his back on Daisuke, "Because this is where I wanted to be." Picking up the box, he headed towards the kitchen, but rather than returning after depositing the trash, Daisuke heard the soft click of Takeru's door from down the hall.

Sitting back into the couch, he let out a sigh. "Damn."

+++++++++++

"I'm home!" Daisuke kicked off his shoes before tossing his work apron on top of the coat he had forgotten to put on before leaving. "Ya—" he tripped over a couple of suitcases sitting in the middle of the front hallway, the resounding crash finally being enough to bring Yamato to his brother's doorway.

"Your home." Yamato's answer seemed more shocked than welcoming, "Just kick those out of the way so you don't trip, okay?" Daisuke mumbled something about timing under his breath before moving the suitcases out of the way and following Yamato back into Takeru's bedroom.

"What are you doing?"

Yamato glanced around the room, taking in the two half filled suitcases on the bed and the other two still waiting to be filled on the floor by the bedroom door. "I'm packing." 

"Well, yes," Daisuke fought to keep from adding in the word idiot, "I can see that. Where are you going?" At Yamato's blank look, he continued, "You can't possibly have found an apartment in one day, much less convinced them to actually let you move in tonight."

"I—well—no, I got a motel room. I know I promised you I'd only stay the night, and well—"

Daisuke swallowed a sigh as Yamato broke off yet again, "You don't have to go to a motel room. It's okay if you stay." Daisuke did his best to ignore the hopeful look in Yamato's eyes. "In fact," he continued, "I think I'd like you to stay."

"Really?" It was like the coming of Christmas, in, well, February. 

"Yeah," Daisuke conceded, "at least until Takeru gets back. I wasn't joking about throwing myself off the roof if I got anymore bored," he smiled a bit a the image of a perfect swan dive off of the tower's roof before shaking away the thought as entirely too morbid, "Think of yourself as a precautionary device."

Yamato smiled. "Well, I guess it's better then some of the things I've been called." Daisuke looked down at one of the suitcases on the bed.

"You have got to be the only person in this world who has a separate suitcase just for his underwear." He tried to keep from laughing as a bright red Yamato slammed the suitcase shut.

He failed.

+++++++++++

Daisuke groaned as the ringing phone jarred him out of sleep. "What?" he growled at whom ever had the indecency to call at 10:30 in the morning.

"Geez! I'm gone three days and you turn into a lazy slob!!" Daisuke rolled his eyes at the phone before hanging up and snuggling down into his covers. Not more than two minutes later, the phone was ringing again. Well, he had to give it to Takeru, at least he was learning. It used to take him a good 10 minutes before he caught on to the fact that Daisuke was long gone.

"So blonds are capable of learning," he congratulated his friend after picking up the telephone.

"I wouldn't know," came the dry response.

Daisuke sat up in bed. "Morning Ken."

"Good morning Daisuke." Was Daisuke going mad, or was that a chuckle out of Ken? "So let me guess," Ken continued, "You're just getting up. And judging by how guilty you sound, I'd say Yamato is no more than..." Ken paused a second to think, "five feet away?"

Daisuke made a face at the wall. "He is at least 15 feet away, in a separate room and it is NOT what you think."

"Yeah. Heard that one before," came the flippant reply.

"Ken," Daisuke began calmly, "You didn't by any chance call for a reason _other_ than to torture me? Did you?"

There was a pause on the other end and Daisuke was almost sure he could see Ken shrug before he continued, "Actually, I just wanted to tell you that I happened to be the one to find your _present_." Daisuke shuddered at the way Ken emphasized that last word. "And to enjoy the rest of your little vacation, because when I get home I will make you regret it." Cold. Calm. _Pissed. _Daisuke flinched at the quiet tone.

"I'm not the one—" he began, but the line was dead.

He was busy trying to think of a way to talk Yamato into loaning him one or two of his suitcases when the phone rang for the third time that morning. He picked it up with a resigned, "Yes?"

"That's not funny Daisuke!" Takeru chided before asking, "Who were you talking to?"

"Eh?" Dear God. If Takeru was psychic now, they were all in trouble.

"The line was busy."

"Oh." So Takeru _was_ learning. Daisuke suppressed a giggle, "The Grim Reaper." 

"Really? Ken called? I figured he'd be off with Miyako."

Daisuke rolled his eyes at Takeru's surprise. "And I figured you'd be off with Hikari. What do you want?"

"Oh, yeah," the purpose for his call finally seemed to dawn on Takeru, "I'm trying to find my brother. He isn't there, is he?"

"Yeah. You want to talk to him?"

"No, no, that's okay," Takeru hastened to assure Daisuke before he find a chance to pass the phone off, "How is he doing? Is he alright?"  
  


"He's right down the hall. I can put him on," Daisuke offered hopefully.

"No. You don't have to. He doesn't seem too depressed, does he?"

"Takeru?"

"Yes?"

"Do you want to talk to your brother?" To the point, that usually worked with most people.

"No, I don't want to disturb him." But not with Takeru.

"But you're disturbing me."

"Yeah, and?" Takeru had never found it difficult to ignore Daisuke's begging tone. In fact, it really only hardened his resolve to speak to Daisuke and only to Daisuke. This, however, was not a fate that Daisuke was willing to accept.

"Look, either talk to Yamato or I'm hanging up."

"Okay, okay, fine," Takeru gave in, "but tell Yamato that he left his cell phone at Taichi's."

"Okay."

"And tell him that I said he can call me if he needs something."

"Okay."

"And tell him that the computer password is Patamon and that I've got my D3 so he can email me if he wants."

"Okay." Daisuke was beginning to think that Takeru had won after all.

"And tell him that there's some money hidden under the box of bags in the closet if he needs some."

"Do you want to talk to your brother, Takeru?" he tried one more time.

"No, no, it's okay. But tell him—" Daisuke could not help himself, when, for the second time that morning, he hung up on this roommate. It was just too early for this type of headache.

"I've tried that, but it doesn't work. He'll just call back." Daisuke glanced up to where Yamato stood, leaning against the door's frame.

"Here," he offered, holding out the phone to Yamato, "If it rings, answer it."

"Gee. You sure know how to treat a guest," Yamato smiled, taking the proffered phone.

Daisuke just shrugged, doing his best not to let out a relieved sigh when the telephone rang yet again and he heard Yamato answer. His hopes, however, were dashed not three minutes later when a very pale, almost panicked Yamato came back into his room and handed him the phone.

"It's your sister," Yamato whispered before he dropped the receiver and ran.

+++++++++++

"How does she do that?"

"What?" Daisuke halted for a second, mid-step, before continuing into the living room and flopping on the couch next to Yamato.

"Recognize my voice like that," Yamato clarified, "I mean, it's BOOM," he clapped his hands together for emphasis, "dead on, instantaneous, 'Oh, Yamato! I didn't know you were visiting Daisuke!!' How does she do that?"

Daisuke shook his head at Yamato's nasally, falsetto imitation of his sister, "I don't know," he answered, "I guess that when you obsess over a person as long as she has you, you gain the ability to recognize them, regardless of context."

Yamato snorted at his _poetic_ explanation, "Insightful Daisuke."

"Bite me," came the equally mature response, "She was calling because they just announced that you were leaving the Teenage Wolves," Daisuke brought the topic of conversation around to the real reason he had gone looking for Yamato.

"Yeah, I know. I was watching it." Yamato gestured toward the television, now showing something about Yamato's band, not that Daisuke could be sure what the perky announcer was saying as Yamato had muted her chatter.

"So that's it then?" he asked, "You're officially out?"

"Yeah."

"Is it strange?" Daisuke did not know why he was whispering, but regardless, Yamato must have heard him because he gave him a small smile.

"Yeah," he answered again, seeming to deflate to the point that Daisuke felt the need to gather him against his shoulder. They sat together for a moment before Yamato pushed himself back up. "But this is best," he countered in a stronger voice.

Daisuke was not quite sure that he bought that; much less that Yamato had. "Hey," he cajoled, adopting what had always been described as his happy voice, "Lets go do something. Anything."

"Okay." Yamato agreed rather hesitantly, though he did smile at Daisuke's saucy wink.

Daisuke stood and offered a hand to Yamato, "A movie," he suggested, pulling the taller man into a standing position.

"Alright," Yamato agreed a little more quickly this time. He took his wallet from the low table and put it in his back pocket before shooting a concerned glance around the room, "Have you seen my cell phone anywhere?"

Daisuke grinned, "We can go pick that up too." At Yamato's questioning glance, he clarified, "You left it at your old place."

"Eh?" If anything, Yamato was only more confused. Daisuke ignored him for the time being, too focused on tying his shoes. Soon they were both properly shod and Daisuke pulling them out of the apartment.

"Takeru told me," he answered the still questioning looks from Yamato, shooing him with his hand as he locked the apartment door.

"Oh yeah," Yamato was already moving down the hallway, talking back over his shoulder, "Wasn't Takeru going to call back?"

"Maybe later," Daisuke answered, taking sadistic glee in listening to the phone ring as he pulled the keys out of the dead bolt. He probably should have turned the answering machine on, but then again...nah.

+++++++++++

Yamato hopped from foot to foot in front of his old apartment door, waiting for Taichi to answer the knock. "Man, I'm cold," He groused, "You should have told me to grab a coat." 

Daisuke snorted, rubbing his own arms for warmth as Yamato reached up to knock yet again.

"Are you sure it wouldn't be better if I just waited for you in the lobby?" Daisuke queried. Not only was it a good deal warmer than the open hallway, but Daisuke also suspected it might be a good deal safer as well.

"Wha—" Yamato's question was cut short when a sleepy looking Taichi finally swung the door open, "Morning Sunshine."

"Let me guess. Takeru called about your phone," Taichi stepped aside so that they could enter the apartment, "Come on," he waived a hesitant Daisuke inside.

Yamato took in a deep breath of the apartment's overly dry heated air. "I was beginning to worry I might freeze to death before you answered the door." Taichi did not seem especially concerned about Yamato's fear for his life but shuffled to the kitchen and put some water on to heat nonetheless. 

"It'll just be a few minutes," he assured Yamato, pointing to where the missing cell phone lie in the center of the kitchen table, "Why didn't either of you think to wear a coat?"

Daisuke just shrugged and Yamato ignored the question, opting instead for, "So, how many times did he call?"

"Just this morning, or this morning plus last night plus yesterday?"

Yamato flinched, "Well at least you eventually answered it. Daisuke just locked the door and walked away."

Daisuke nearly choked on the candy he had pilfered from the nearby dish, "You knew about that?"

"I'm blond, not deaf," Yamato grinned. Taichi pulled the teapot from the stove as he brought down a heavy ceramic bowl from the closest cabinet and placing the bowl in front of Yamato, filled it nearly to the brim.

"Do you want some?" Taichi gestured in Daisuke's direction with the pot.

"Tea?" Daisuke questioned, not so very sure what Taichi was actually offering.

"If that's what you want," came the genial offer. An offer that Daisuke missed as he was too busy watching Yamato float his hands above the steaming bowl, the occasional, "ahhh," and "warm," slipping out.

"I don't get it, I just make it," Taichi broke back into Daisuke's thoughts. At Daisuke's thoroughly confused look, Taichi just shook his head. Apparently some things were not worth explaining. "Well if you don't want anything to drink then come help me dig through the closet. I think there are some old coats hidden back in the back."

"Okay," Daisuke allowed Taichi to lead him to the other end of the apartment, still not entirely convinced that soon coats might not be the only thing buried back there.

Taichi slid back the closet door to reveal absolutely no clothes, only box after box stacked to the ceiling. "Storage," came the short answer as Taichi pulled out one after another of the topmost boxes and handed them to Daisuke to set on the floor.

"About the water thing," Taichi began suddenly, "I've never really gotten it but he's done that since we were kids," he shrugged, giving Daisuke a whimsical sort of smile, "Once, the first time we were sucked into the Digital World, we came across some hot springs. Everyone else wanted to keep looking for food, but Yamato," Taichi held his hands out in front of him in a fair imitation of what they had just seen in the kitchen, "I thought we might have to leave him," he finished with a chuckle, before his eyes turned sad again, "He said that his hands ached when they got cold," he gave Daisuke a good once over, "It's just something to remember, okay?" Taichi's focus switched back to rummaging through the box on the floor.

"Taichi, listen," Daisuke began, "It's not what you—" He was cut short by Taichi's triumphant, "Ah-Hah!" as he pulled a couple of coats out of the bottom of the third box.

"It'll be a little long on you," Taichi apologized, "But I guess it will do the trick."

"Taichi..." Daisuke began softly.

"Listen. I'm sorry about, ah," Taichi grimaced, "I mean, I shouldn't have," he paused again, motioning with his hands, "What with the...and everyone being..."

"It's okay," Daisuke assured him.

"Thanks," Taichi gave a relieved smile, "I really meant to tell you at the wedding, but with the trouble and all, it kind of slipped my mind."

"Oh yeah, I know," Daisuke agreed, "That was strange."

"I kind of figured it for a bad omen if the shrine priest dies the morning of your wedding."

"Um, hm," Daisuke agreed, "And then the snow."

"I know. I've never seen anything like that. I mean I realize that it is February and all, but sheesh. And what was with that bird?"

"I don't know. But I hate that it did that to the cake."

"I was holding out for that cake!"

"And Miyako's mother makes the best desserts..." Daisuke trailed off sadly. Both boys shook their heads at the accursed fates for a moment.

"I thought Miyako handled it well though," Taichi congratulated. Daisuke thought for a moment of Miyako, storming about the reception hall in her bright red uchikake, looking much too much like the bird she was threatening to skewer with her ceremonial sword while Ken stood near the raised dais looking only mildly concerned by the fall of his wedding.

"Yeah, I guess when all was said and done, she did."

+++++++++++

Daisuke groaned as someone shook him out of his all too comfortable sleep.

"Come on," Yamato chided, "Get up." Daisuke batted his eyes at the blurry figure sitting above him a time or two before attempting to roll over on his side. No such luck. Yamato had pinned him by his shoulders and was beginning to shake him even more roughly. "Get up, get up, get up," he chanted at the helpless Daisuke.

"Why?" Daisuke begged.

"Takeru called. He said you had to go to work this morning," Yamato explained, retaining his grip on the squirming Daisuke.

"I don't want to."

"Tough." Yamato chuckled at Daisuke's whimpers, "Teach you to stay up so late," he scolded with a wink.

"Me!?" Daisuke was suddenly very much awake, "Teach me? I wasn't the one bouncing around the living room to some random anime at two in the morning."

"It wasn't just some random anime," Yamato objected, "It was FLCL. And you didn't have to watch it with me."

"I was being kind."

"Teach you," Yamato repeated for the second time that morning.

"Teach me," Daisuke concurred as he was bodily drug from his warm bed. He allowed Yamato to pull him out of the room, down the hallway and into the kitchen where the blond, by all appearances had already prepared a breakfast.

"Food?" Yamato offered, setting a plate and a glass of orange juice in front of Daisuke.

"You cooked?" Yes it looked like normal food, and Daisuke had gone to the grocery store just two days ago, so technically, there was a chance that it was normal food. But Yamato's last attempt at food preparation had been permanently burned into Daisuke's brain and he was more than just slightly wary.

"It's eggs," Yamato ground out, annoyed by the way Daisuke kept nervously poking at the yellow-ish mound on his plate.

"Just eggs?"

"Just eggs," he was assured, "And, well, a bit of milk, some salt and pepper." Yamato paused to think if he had added anything else, "A little bit butter in the pan."

That sounded about like Daisuke made his own eggs. His confidence renewed, he broke off a bite and brought it to his mouth. "Weird, they almost smell sweet," he commented before popping in the bite.

"Oh yeah. That's the apple jelly," Yamato remembered.

Daisuke paused mid-chew, his chopsticks still halfway between his mouth and his plate. Yamato grinned at him, taking his own bite, chewing and swallowing before instructing Daisuke to do the same.

"Just try it," he insisted when Daisuke remained frozen. "You'll like it. I promise."

Frightened more of Yamato than what was in his breakfast, Daisuke slowly began to chew, carefully adjusting his tongue with each movement so as to avoid having it come in contact with the food any more than was absolutely necessary. Finally, and with no small amount of difficulty, he swallowed.

"Fine," Yamato rolled his eyes, "Now try it again, and this time, actually taste it." Daisuke ignored the command, opting instead for one of his cereal bars he kept in the cabinet for just such instances. He was, however, kind enough to set his uneaten portion next to Yamato.

"You'll never get anywhere in this world if you aren't willing to try new things," Yamato rebuked. 

Daisuke scoffed at the very idea, "I'll risk it," he promised.

"Its Takeru who actually gave me the idea. He used to eat jellybeans on his eggs. But I never liked that." Some how Daisuke was not surprised. 

"Too sweet?" he asked.

"Too solid." Yamato made a face, "I mean here you were eating this soft food when suddenly, you all but break a tooth on some hunk of colored sugar. That and the jellybeans bled when you cooked them so your eggs ended up kind of grayish green. It was disgusting."

"I can imagine."

"So anyway, one day I was cooking breakfast and I happened to be out of jellybeans..."

"It happens." Daisuke interjected, earning himself a _look_. 

"So rather than go without, I replaced them with apple jelly. And it worked!"

"Uh-huh," Daisuke agreed, "Well from now on, I do the cooking, alright?"

"Fine." Yamato conceded.

"Good." Daisuke glanced up at the clock for a second. Had he remembered to set it back to the correct time or not? He couldn't remember. "Takeru didn't happen to tell you what time I was supposed to go into work this morning, did he?"

"10."

"Okay," Daisuke pushed himself away from the counter he had been leaning on while he ate the cereal bar, "I guess I'd better get ready to go then.

"Wait a second!" Yamato called, pulling Daisuke back into the kitchen at just the last second, "What time will you get off?"

Daisuke smiled at the question, "7:00pm."

"I'm going to go look at some apartments with the realtor," Yamato informed, "But I'll be back by then. Do you need me to pick anything up while I'm out?"

This time, Daisuke could not hold back the laughter, "That's all right, Sugar," he teased, "I'll see you to night."

It took a moment to finally dawn on Yamato that he was, indeed, being picked on, but when it did, "That's not funny Daisuke!"

But Daisuke had already disappeared.

+++++++++++

By the time Daisuke made it back home it was already 7:30 and the apartment was completely dark.

"I'm home," he called out into the darkened hallway, kicking off his shoes and running a hand along the far wall until he touched the light switch. "Is anyone home? Yamato?" he flipped the switch on, listening to the buzz and then the successive clicks of the fluorescent lighting warming up. Daisuke crept down the quiet hall to Takeru's room, holding his ear to the door for a second before slowly opening it and peaking inside.

He could see nothing.

But that probably had more to do with the fact that the little windowless room was pitch black than what was actually there. He slid a hand along the wall by the door until he found the light switch and flipped it on.

Nothing.

He hurried down to the living room and then to the kitchen.

Nothing.

That left four possible options, the laundry room, bathroom, shower and Daisuke's room. It seemed unlikely that Yamato would be in any of the first three if the house was this dark, so that left only one real possibility. If that little twit was hiding in his room, Daisuke swore—

Nothing.

"Yamato?" Daisuke called again. 

Yamato was not home.

+++++++++++

Yamato glanced down at his wristwatch with a frown. It was already eight o'clock, and at the rate this chatterbox was going, it was going to be at least eight thirty before he managed to escape.

A light tug on his shirtsleeve brought Yamato's wandering mind back. "Mr. Ishida," the too-happy woman smiled at him, "As I was saying, I am sure that we can get you into any of the apartments we looked at today. If there was one you really liked, I could even look into whether or not they'd let you move in before the end of the month." She flashed him another toothy smile.

"To be honest Miss—" Yamato hesitated for a moment, realizing that he'd forgotten her name for the third time that day.

"Ashiwara," she provided. This time, her smile made Yamato think she wanted to bite him.

"Yes. To be honest Miss Ashiwara, I was hoping to find something a little closer to the university."

"The university?" she questioned.

"Yes." Yamato answered yet again, flashing her his own version of the winning smile, something he'd used on Takeru since he was an infant and fan-girls the world over. He hoped it also worked on overzealous realtors. "You see, I've been hoping to continue with my education."

"Education," she stuttered. Obviously the Ishida charm was far from spent. "Of course improving one's mind is always a noble endeavor," she was quick to assure him. "Unfortunately my territory does not extend that far east," she gave him an apologetic little smile, "However, I'd be happy to introduce you to the young man in our office who covers that area."

"That would be very much appreciated," Yamato stood from the table, "I wish I could stay, but I'm afraid I have another appointment I must get to." He gave the woman a slight bow before stepping away from the table. "Oh, one more thing," Yamato flashed her another smile, just for good measure, "If you need to reach me, please use the cell phone number on my card. I am no longer staying at the line marked as home." He gave her a wink and watched as she blushed.

"Of course, Mr. Ishida," she tittered.

"Thank you." Taichi was right. He really did get entirely too much joy out of that.

+++++++++++

Yamato looked at his watch for what had to be the one hundredth time in the last fifteen minutes. 8:45. Maybe he would be lucky an Daisuke would be late getting home from work, but judging by the light shining through the front curtains, such was not the case.

He reached out and slowly turned the doorknob. Open, something that was good, and yet not good. Yamato crept inside as quietly as possible, taking off his shoes, but forgoing house slippers.

"Ewwww. This is disgusting." He could hear Daisuke talking to someone in the kitchen and wondered for a second if Takeru had not already made it home. If so, he was in luck. Daisuke would never dare fuss at him if Takeru were standing right there. Sometimes Takeru was really, really useful.

Yamato hurried the rest of the way to the kitchen, pulling back the sliding door with a smile, "Daisuke, I'm—"

No Takeru.

"Yamato!" Daisuke jumped up from where he'd been sitting in the middle of the kitchen floor, spreading the contents of the trashcan out on open newspapers. "Oh my God! I've been so worried. Where were you?"

"What are you doing?" Yamato opted to ignore Daisuke's questions.

Daisuke looked down at the various piles of garbage he had already dug out of the trashcan, "I—You hadn't called and I was really worried. I thought maybe something had happened."

"And the trash?" Yamato kneeled down to help Daisuke redeposit the it all in the trashcan, wrinkling his nose at the newspaper that held his left over eggs from breakfast.

Daisuke did not seem particularly inclined to answer, but finally admitted, " I wanted to call but forgot your cell phone number." When this did not seem to lift Yamato's confusion, "I threw it away earlier, remember?"

Yamato vaguely remembered the scrap of paper, "Yeah, but that was days ago. I've taken the trash out twice since then."

"Really?" Daisuke seemed genuinely surprised, "I thought it had been a while since it had gotten full." Yamato stepped away from the sink where he had been washing his hands and motioned for Daisuke to take his place. He snatched a dishtowel off of the nearby rack, and drying his hands, walked over to the little table under the phone. 

"Daisuke, why—" Yamato paused, on second thought, maybe he really did not want to know why there was an entire cup full of pens marked 'Daisuke.' "Never mind." He took out a pen and wrote his name and cell number on a scrap of paper before pinning it to the tack board. "There," he declared, "Now you won't have to worry."

Yamato walked over to where a washed, but still drippy Daisuke stood, handing him the towel. "But don't worry. You won't need it because I won't forget to call again. I promise."

Daisuke could not help the small chuckle at the all too familiar words. "Have you ever heard of a band named _The Guess Who_?" he asked at Yamato's questioning look.

"No. Why?"

"Oh nothing," Daisuke smiled, "You just beginning to remind me of one of their songs, that's all."

"Really," Yamato smirked, "What's it about." 

"Oh you know," Daisuke gestured about the room, "Typical stuff. Lost loves, broken promises," he smiled, "Life."

"Well this one I won't break," Yamato assured Daisuke, pulling him close enough to hug, "Promise," he even had the audacity to grin at the irony of his own words as he squeezed Daisuke tight.

But then the front door opened, "I'm home!!"

_These eyes cry every night for you  
These arms long to hold you again  
  
The hurtin's on me, yeah  
And I will never be free, no, my baby, no no  
You gave a promise to me, yeah  
An' you broke it, an' you broke it, oh no  
  
These eyes watched you bring my world to an end  
This heart could not accept and pretend  
  
The hurtin's on me, yeah  
And I will never be free, no, no, no  
You took the vow with me, yeah  
An' you spoke it, an' you spoke it, babe  
  
These eyes are cryin'  
These eyes have seen a lot of loves  
But they're never gonna see another one like I had with you_

TBC

Author's Notes:

First to Skywolf: Yes! And excuse to talk about my backwards twisting of universes!! :) But to answer your question, the DigiWorld adventures that we have seen on television are the DigiWorld adventures that they would see on television—if Takeru would get off of his lazy-you-know-what and finish writing the script. (See how I say this like I have room to take. This is what we call hypocrisy). So the story itself is an alternative universe because it is not in the same universe as what we have seen on television (the original fandom). So the universe that this story exists in and our actual universe overlap. However, the story universe is obviously more than a few years behind our universe as in the story univers, the Digimon the television show has yet to be completely written, much less aired. See?

  
Second, I would like to dedicate this story to Sami-ame as proof that patience and perseverance rarely, if ever garner anything of value. :) OH, and Sami-ame? I always read the entire thing. ; )

  
Author's Own Breakable Promise:

The 6th part should be out much sooner than the 5th one was. Really. I don't know why you people don't believe me! ; )

  
jamalynrascher@yahoo.com


	6. Lair of the Dragon

Author's note:  As you may or may not have noticed, there's a good deal of Ken in this fic.  Why, you ask, would there be a good deal of Ken in a Yamasuke?  It's simple, I reply.  I _love_ Ken-kun.  He's my baby, first and forever, and no voyage into any other fandom, no matter how great it is or was, has ever been able to change that.  So here's to Ken, the first man to hold my attention for more than 2 months.  May he be the last!  **:**p

****

**                                                                    Absolutions 06:**  **Lair of the Dragon**

_"When you have to kill a man, it costs nothing to be polite." __~Sir Winston Churchill_

_"I am not a psychopath, I am a sociopath.  I know that what I am doing is wrong, I just don't care."  ~Pretender, 2001_

+++++++++++

"Takeru?" Yamato asked as the front bell buzzed.  Daisuke shook his head, taking a frightened step backwards.

"No," he swallowed, "I left the door unlocked.  Besides, Takeru knocks."

"Daisuke!  I'm home!" Takeru's voice rang down the hall.

"Oh thank you god," Daisuke whispered, slumping back against the kitchen counter.

"Wha—" Yamato paused, "Daisuke?  What's going on?"

"Nothing.  Nothing," he was assured, Daisuke doing his best to take deep, calming breaths between each word, "For a minute there I thought he'd hired a taxi."

"Taxi?" Takeru asked, finding them still in the kitchen.

"Taxi." Daisuke answered.

Yamato did his best not to let out a frustrated growl, looking first to Takeru, who only shrugged, then to Daisuke, "Do you want to tell me what's go on here, Daisuke?"

"Don't worry." Daisuke smiled, shaking the cramp out of the hand he had had clinched over his chest, "It's nothing to be scared of," he promised.

"All evidence to the contrary."

Daisuke flinched, "Ken's just a little," he stopped to think of the best way to explain the situation, "_upset_ with me at the moment."

This time it was Takeru's turn to be surprised, "Upset!?  How did you manage to upset him when he hasn't even been here all week?" he asked.

Daisuke let out a gusty sigh before grinding out, "Not helping Takeru."

"Taxi?" Yamato spoke the question for the second time, not willing to let Daisuke off the hook quite that easily.

"I'm supposed to pick Ken and Miyako up at the airport tonight," Daisuke hastened to explain, "I think I may move to Madagascar first though."  He turned to the shorter blonde with his best pout, "Are you doing anything later tonight?" he begged.

"Oh no you don't," Takeru was already trying to back his way out of the kitchen, "You're not going to pawn Vindictive!Ken off on me!"

"Takeru, please," Daisuke begged, never letting Takeru get more than two steps away from him, "You know how he gets!  And it's not like I've never done anything for you before," Daisuke looked about frantically as Takeru continued to pace backwards, trying his best to think of some past good deed he could hold over Takeru's head when finally it dawned upon him, "I took YOUR brother in when he had no where else to go!"

"Well!  Good to know I'm as terrible as Bitter!Ken." Yamato groused.  Daisuke balked, trying to divide his attention between both the escaping Takeru and the now decidedly put out Yamato.    Giving up on the possibility of actually accomplishing such brilliant multi-tasking, and he grabbed Takeru's flannel shirt to keep him from using this chance to slip away, and focused his attention on the elder brother.

"It's Vindictive!Ken, and besides—" Daisuke faltered, unable to think of a way of reassuring Yamato with out giving Takeru an all too easy out, "Just work with me here!" he begged.

"You want me to work with you?" Yamato asked, both eyebrows shooting nearly sky high as if the request were unimaginable.

"Yes."

"Fine." Yamato conceded.  He turned to Takeru with a face of grim resolve.  "Go. Get. Ken."

"Yaaaamaaaa," Takeru pleaded, "That's not fair!  I'm family!"

Yamato gripped his younger brother by the shoulders, giving them both a firm squeeze before meeting Takeru's imploring eyes dead on, "And I love you," he smiled before dropping either arm to his sides and walking away.

Takeru and Daisuke were left to stare at each other in the middle of the living room.  After what seemed like an eternity of endless moments, Daisuke reached into his right hand pocket and pulled out a slip of paper.

"The flight info," he offered, trying his best not to smile and not succeeding in the least, "The plane arrives at 7:38."

Takeru snatched the paper away with a grunt, "This isn't over," he promised, "You just wait."

Sure, Daisuke wanted to respond, but all he could get out was a choked sort of, "Ja—" before he burst into laughter.

+++++++++++

Takeru frowned at his watch.  How dare it tell him that it was 9:30!  Of all the stupid, idiotic, retarded things for a plane to be, late had to be the worst.  He kicked at a crumpled piece of newspaper, earning himself a dirty look from the nearby janitor.

"Stupid plane," Takeru muttered, "stupid airport, stupid, stupid Yamat—"

"Where's Daisuke?"  Takeru nearly jumped out of his skin at Ken's all too calm question.

"Gyah!" Takeru squealed, "Don't do that, Ken!"  When Ken didn't seem particularly inclined to apologize, he continued, "Daisuke is playing chicken with my brother," he groused.

"So that's what they're calling it now," Miyako popped up over Ken's shoulder to insert her own two bits.  Ken just growled, his lips pursed in annoyance.

"Well, whatever they're calling it," Takeru complained, "I hope they're done."  At Ken's second growl, Takeru decided it was time to change the topic of conversation, "Bags?" he asked, "Have you picked up your bags?"  Miyako stepped back, revealing a luggage cart on which were arranged suitcases of varying sizes, each neatly placed so that they formed the most stable and all but perfect geometric design of which even a mineral would have been proud.

"Ken got them."

"I see," Takeru answered slowly, doing his best to ignore the multitude of now ringing warning bells put in place by his one semester of Intro to Psychology, "I guess we'd better head on home."

"Actually," Ken did not sound as if he agreed with Takeru's plan, "We got Daisuke a souvenir.  I was hoping that you wouldn't mind dropping by your place first."

Takeru paused.  On one hand, this evening's events not considered, Daisuke really was one of his best friends.  On the other—

"Sure!" Takeru smiled, "I think that'd be great."

+++++++++++

"Takeru?" Yamato asked at the knock on the front door.  Daisuke shook his head, taking a frightened step backwards.

"Trap," he mouthed, holding a finger to his lips as he looked back and forth across the kitchen as if for some place to hide.

"Trap?" Yamato asked just as the kitchen door slid open and they were presented with smiling image of a perfect Ken.

"And to think I was worried you might not be in," Ken _smiled_.

"In?" Daisuke asked.

"Yes."  There it was again, that all too pleasant _smile_.  Daisuke fought back a shudder as Ken continued; "I had Takeru make a quick stop so I could talk to you."

"Ken?" Yamato interrupted carefully, not failing to notice the slight frown before it was all too quickly replaced with that frightening leer, "Where's Takeru?"  Takeru was, after all, his little brother and he really would never be able to live with himself if he had sent him to his untimely death.

"He's waiting in the car.  I'll only be a minute," Ken promised before turning his attention back to Daisuke and motioning out the kitchen door with his eyes and a small nod of his head, "Daisuke?"

Daisuke gave his own slight nod, moving to step out of the kitchen and towards the back of the apartment.

"Daisuke?" Yamato asked uncertainly, only to get no response from the person in question.

"You'll have him back in just a sec," Ken answered for him, "Promise."  Yamato was so intent on watching Daisuke be all but marched back towards one of the bedrooms that he failed to notice that Miyako had joined him.  Thus when she finally spoke up, he was nearly startled out of his wits.

"Poor, poor Daisuke," she tsked, shaking her head sadly.

"Miyako?" Yamato questioned once he had gotten his breath back, "Ken's not going to, you know, kill him or anything, is he?"

Miyako laughed, "Ken?" she asked incredulously, "No.  Ken'd kill anyone who dared to touch even one hair on Daisuke's head in a way he didn't approve of, but Daisuke…" she laughed again at the very idea of Ken hurting Daisuke, "Daisuke gets away with murder."

Yamato relaxed when given her reassurances, "I guess he's always been really protective of Daisuke," he speculated.

"Woo-hoo…" she whistled, making a swirling motion at her temple to indicate just how deep Ken's psychosis went, "If I were you, it's something I'd keep in mind."

"And that doesn't bother you," Yamato asked, "I mean, that he's so protective of Daisuke?"

"Well," Miyako shrugged, pulling Daisuke's last breakfast bar out of the overhead cabinet with a happy mmmm, "It used to.  But then I realized that Ken was making _Daisuke's_ life a total hell, and so what did I have to complain about?"  She flashed him a bright grin.

"That—that's a lovely sentiment, Miyako.  Really."

"Un," she mumbled, obviously more intent on opening the cereal bar wrapper than in continuing any previous conversations.  The line of communication was dead.

+++++++++++

"Listen Ken," Daisuke began carefully, "I'm really sorry about the ba—"

"That's not why I'm here," he was interrupted, "Although I do expect full reparations.  Quickly."

"Quickly?"

"End of the week." Ken intoned.

"But tomorrow's Sunday!"

The arch of Ken's eyebrow seemed to suggest that he could in no way see any reason why Daisuke might be unable to meet his request in 26 hours or less.  Daisuke, on the other hand, knew that he was dead meat and would spend his last few hours of freedom before returning to classes scouring the shops of Tokyo.  Life was NOT fair.

"Ugh, fine." Daisuke finally conceded, "What else?"  

"Yamato."

"No!" Daisuke stomped his foot for extra emphasis.  Ken was not fazed.

"Yes."

"NO!" Daisuke insisted even more stringently, flinching when he heard his voice raise an octave.

"Keep it down," Ken complained, "I've not gotten nearly enough sleep this week and I have a pounding headache."

"Ugh," came the disgusted response.  Ken let out an annoyed growl as if it were beyond ridiculous for Daisuke to be appalled by his implications.

"Grow up."

"Take a nap."

"Just tell me."

"I said **NO**."

"Fine." Ken sighed, seeming to give in, "But I want the goods at my apartment by tomorrow night," he reminded, "Oh, and Miyako got you a souvenir.  I left it in the front hall."

"Fine." Daisuke responded, taking Ken's catch phrase for his own, as he reveled in his small victory, "Thanks."

It wasn't until he heard Ken saying his goodbyes to Yamato that Daisuke realized that he had just promised to walk, willingly nonetheless, into the demon's lair.

Victory, his ass, this war was just starting.

+++++++++++

"But they've only been married a week.  How could he have forgotten her?" Daisuke looked up at what had to be the thousandth peppermint stripped sign with a prayer.  This was not going good.  Why the hell hadn't Ken just told him where he bought the damned candies?  

"He said he thought she was in the car." Yamato was not helping, completely failing to see why Daisuke might be just a tad annoyed about having had to, as Daisuke insisted upon putting it, baby-sit Miyako until Ken remembered that he was supposed to have more than luggage in the car with he and Takeru.  Come to think of it, Takeru had some explaining to do as well.

"Well she wasn't," Daisuke reminded him for the one hundredth time that morning, "She was in the kitchen."

Yamato sighed as he began scanning the various bin for the candy in question, "Yes.  We _all_ know that now." 

"Why did she come into the apartment in the first place?" Daisuke demanded, looking about for a store employee to harass for answers.

"She was hungry."

Daisuke's eyes narrowed for a moment before he attempted to brush away his suspicion with a shake of the head, "You'd have said something if you knew she was in the apartment, right?" he questioned carefully.

"Of course I would have!" Yamato answered instantly, "What are we looking for again?"

"Smmarr-teess," Daisuke sounded out the foreign word carefully before catching the eye of a perky woman dressed as a cupcake and waving her over.  When she had bounded over Daisuke began to question her as to the candies in question.

At first it seemed like another no-go, with Ms. Cupcake showing Daisuke everything from licorice buttons to kissed mints, and Daisuke was beginning to become just a smidgen frustrated.

It was Yamato who saved him though, insisting that Daisuke wait as he paid for what had to be the fiftieth pound of candy that he just _had_ to try.  "Have you ever seen these?" he asked, holding up a handful of rolls of colorful candies.

"Yamato!" Daisuke demanded, causing both Yamato and the store clerk to jump to attention, "Where did you get those?" he asked as slowly and carefully as possible.

"In a bin in the back," Yamato shrugged, "I saw them a few stores ago, but I wanted to get the chocolate sprinkle kisses more and when I asked you said I should only get one."  Daisuke tried to think back to when Yamato had bought the chocolate kisses.  That had to be at least three hours ago!

"Why didn't you tell me you had seen them then?" Daisuke ground out.

"Wha—" Yamato questioned, "These?  Are these the, ah—" he tried to think of the word that Daisuke had been repeating for him all morning.

"Smarties," Daisuke furnished.  Yamato gave an apologetic sort of smile.

"English isn't really my _best_ language.  To be honest, that's the course I usually skipped out of to go practice with the band."  Yamato gave his best smile.  Daisuke was not buying it.

"Then why did you keep asking me what they were called?"

Yamato just shrugged.  There was no nice way to say that you were only pretending to be interested in something just for the chance to ride around with someone all day.

"Argh," Daisuke growled, gripping Yamato's arm with a sigh, "Just show me where you got them."  Yamato led him back to the bin, smiling at Daisuke's heave of relief at finding all the Smarties he needed and more.  For once, Daisuke was glad the people with candy fetishes seemed to be drawn to him.  He quickly scooped up a large baggie for Ken, and after a second's pause, another for himself.  Then he paid and made his way out of the bright store as quickly as humanly possible.

"Do you need to go anywhere else?  Grocery store?" Yamato offered, hoping to smooth over his little _faux pas_ as much as possible as they walked out of the shop.  

"No.  I've got to head over to Ken's.  I prefer to go on Mondays, anyway.  It's less crowded," Daisuke explained, "Besides, the only thing I couldn't live with out is my breakfast bar and I made sure I saved one."

Yamato flinched, but remained absolutely one-hundred percent silent.

+++++++++++

"Daisuke!" Ken smiled, opening the door wide, "You came!"  Daisuke's eyes narrowed at the uncharacteristically exuberant welcome.

"You made me promise," came the cautious reply.

"Still, I'm glad," Ken motioned for Daisuke to enter, "Come on, Miyako's almost got dinner ready."

So that was going to be Ken's weapon of choice, poisoning.

"She's making your favorite," Ken continued as he led Daisuke down the hall towards the computer room, "Natto."

"I hate natto," Daisuke frowned, beginning to get a firmer and firmer grip on the situation.

"Oops," Ken smirked, "My mistake.  Well you know how Miyako hates it when you skip out without eating."

"Lay it on the table Ken," Daisuke intoned, tired of waiting for Ken to get to his punch line.

"Well the way I look at it, you have got a little less than thirty minutes before she's finished and you cannot escape without eating.  So you had better cooperate."

"Or," Daisuke had his own idea, "I could just drop these here," he held the baggie of Smarties above Ken's desk, "And leave right now."

That was all it took to crack Ken up, pushing him so far over the edge as to require his leaning on Daisuke's shoulder to keep from falling down.  Daisuke was not nearly so amused, waiting for Ken to regain his sense of equilibrium with an almost seething air.

Speed and subtlety had always been Ken's specialties, and to be honest, Daisuke was already in the well-padded computer chair with the handcuffs firmly locked around his left wrist before he even realized what was happening.

"You've always been entirely too easy," Ken said with a smirk, leaning back so that he could sit against the desk.  Daisuke pulled at the cuffs, but to no avail.

"Ken!" Daisuke complained, "You promised you'd never do this again."

"I lied."

"KEN!"

"You know," Ken shook his head, "I have never liked the way you've said my name when you were angry."

"Okay," Daisuke took a deep breath, "I won't do it again.  Just undo me and we'll talk about this like normal people."

"Nope.  Don't think so." Ken blew off his request with little more than a flick of the wrist.  "Yamato."

"There is nothing going on between us!"  Daisuke gave a few desperate jerks against the cuffs.

"Stop that!" Ken commanded, "You will scratch the chair arm."  When Daisuke quit attempting to disjoint his thumb, Ken continued, "Just tell me the truth and I'll let you free."

"What?  No!  Look Ken, we haven't even kissed!!" Daisuke insisted.  Ken was not buying it.  "Okay, so he kissed me, but _we_ haven't! Not for real, anyway."

"Sure," nope, Ken definitely was not convinced, "I think we need a working definition of the word 'real,'" he intoned.

"I'm not saying that the thought hasn't crossed my mind," Daisuke reasoned, "It has.  But you have to believe me Ken.  Yamato and I are not doing anything!"

Ken frowned at Daisuke's insistence, "Do you know what denial is Daisuke?" he asked softly.

"Ken..."  
  


"Well?"

Daisuke sighed, "Of course I do.  Denial is refusing to admit when something is true."

"No." Ken interjected with a wink, "It's a river in Africa, but I digress."

"Ken!"  That was going too far, "Let. Me. UP."  Ken, however, disagreed.

"No."  There was a momentary pause as both men stared; each hoping the other would break.  Finally Ken pushed himself away from the desk, reaching behind to retrieve the bag of Smarties.  He opened it, and with a smile, pulled two rolls out, offering one to Daisuke.

Daisuke shook his head at the obvious bribe.  Ken shrugged and dropped the candy back into the bag with a sigh.  "Daisuke?" Ken asked carefully.  Daisuke was not yet sure that he wanted to buy the injured act.

"What is it?"

"Please just tell me one thing, okay?" Ken paused with a soft smile, "Answer me one question and I'll undo the cuffs and let you go home."

Daisuke had heard that one before, "Undo the cuffs and I'll promise to answer one question."

"You know I can't do that Daisuke," Ken frowned.  Yes, Daisuke knew.

"Fine," he conceded, "What's your questions?" at the way Ken's eyes lit up, Daisuke knew he needed to clarify, "I _might_ answer."  

Ken did not seem concerned by Daisuke's warning, "Why Yamato?"

"Why not?"  It was the first thing that had come to Daisuke's mind and he knew that saying it was a bad idea before the short phrase was even completely out of his mouth.  It was not enough that he all but admitted that there was something going on between he and Yamato, but he had to go and annoy Ken in the process.  Somehow, Daisuke knew this had to be all Ken's fault.

"Why the Kaiser, then?"

That was not the response that Daisuke had been expecting.  "Ken…" Daisuke called softly, but Ken was no longer there, he had been completely lost to thought.  Daisuke waited patiently for his friend to return.

"I can't remember."  

The simple phrase caught Daisuke completely by surprise.

"Did I ever tell you?" Ken asked when Daisuke failed to respond.  "I can't remember anything," Ken had pulled his foot up to the desk's edge so that he could rest his chin on the bent knee, "Except you," he told the bookshelf on Daisuke's left, "You were the first thing I managed to do right," Ken turned to Daisuke with a self-depreciating smile, "And even that just about drove me over the edge."

"That's not true," Daisuke interjected, trying his best to get away from the damned chair.  Ken just shook his head at Daisuke's futile attempts.

"I just want you to be happy," Ken assured him, "I want this to be perfect.  No mistakes."

Daisuke knew the concern was genuine, if misplaced.  He tried to get Ken to actually look at him but failed.  "No offence Ken," Daisuke began, hoping Ken would glance up long enough for Daisuke to catch his eyes, "but all you're doing is dooming me to a life alone.  No relationship is ever going to be perfect enough."

It seemed as if Ken were staring directly through Daisuke, so far gone was he in his own thoughts.  Daisuke was sure that a full minute had passed before Ken's attention finally snapped back to reality.

Not that that was a good thing.

Ken pinned Daisuke with his best look of resolve.  "Fine," Ken decided, "I'll just call Jun.  I'm sure she'd love to hear the news."

Damn.  "You. Wouldn't. Dare."

"Try me."

"KEN!!"

+++++++++++

"Takeru!" Yamato shook his brother by the shoulders, trying his best to get the younger blond to actually look at him, "I know you're not talking to me but this is really important.  Please!"

Finally a bit of the ice in Takeru's eyes began to crack, "What?" he asked begrudgingly.

"I need to know what type of breakfast bar Daisuke eats.  It's really important," he insisted for the second time.

"Breakfast bar?"  Takeru's curiosity was peaked, "Why do you need to know about that?"  Yamato was torn.  On the one hand, it was easy to see that Takeru was still mad at him and could very well mislead him in the hopes of getting revenge.  On the other, Takeru was his only little brother who cared for him more than anyone else in the world and who would no doubt understand and want to help his older brother out.  Yamato was going to vote on love.

"Well, actually, I knew Miyako was in the apartment last night," Yamato explained, "But I told Daisuke that she wasn't."

"Yes.  That's a good relationship. The lies are already starting."  Takeru rolled over so that all Yamato was presented with was his back.

"Takeru, you have to help me!" Yamato begged.

"I still don't see what any of that has to do with breakfast bars," Takeru told the wall.

"I saw her eat his last bar," Yamato admitted softly, "And when he said everything was okay as long as he had that bar, I didn't say anything," Yamato flinched, "So tomorrow he's going to get up and not find that bar and he's going to hit the roof."

"Lies and intrigue," Takeru complimented sarcastically, "This is a new high."

"Taker—" Yamato began, halting as Takeru rolled back over and sat up to face him.

"No, no, let me guess," it was Takeru's turn to ask, "Now you want to replace the missing bar before Daisuke gets back so he'll never be able to figure out that you ever knew Miyako was over last night.  Is that it?"

"Yes," Yamato offered his best smile.

"I should just let you reap what you've sewed," Takeru began, but then the hard resolve on his face softened, "But I guess I can understand where you are coming from."  Takeru stood up and walked across the small room to where his computer printer sat, removing a clean sheet of paper to draw a map.  "The store where Daisuke buys them is right down the street about three blocks."  Takeru handed the completed map to his eagerly waiting brother, "Just get anything blueberry.  That's his favorite and the only one he ever buys."

"Thank you!" Yamato breathed a sigh of relief before rushing out of the room and then the apartment with more than just the devil on his heels.  Takeru smiled to himself as he watched the mad dash down the hall.  It was nice to know that Yamato was so concerned about Daisuke's happiness.

Never mind Daisuke was allergic to blueberries.

Blood may have been thicker than water, but revenge outweighed them both.

+++++++++++

Yamato placed the blueberry cereal bar in the cabinet he'd seen Miyako take Daisuke's from, listening the entire time for any sound, no matter how small, that might signal Daisuke's arrival home.

So far, so good.  Yamato had been a little worried when he arrived at the 24-hour quick-mart and seen how many different boxes of cereal bars there were.  However, the gods were smiling on him.  There had only been one particular brand that carried a blueberry flavor.  Yamato had bought the box and hurried back to his brother's apartment.

He shut the cabinet, looking about for a place to deposit the remaining five bars in the box, briefly considering the trash can before deciding in favor of under the sink.  After all, it'd be such a waste to just throw them away.  He'd figure out what he was actually going to do with them later.

Yamato had just hidden the superfluous bars when he heard the apartment door open and close.  Sticking his head out the kitchen door, he saw a worn out looking Daisuke kicking off his shoes with a grunt.

"Daisuke?" Yamato asked carefully.  The tired man smiled up at him.

"Hey Yamato."  Daisuke stumbled down the hall to his room, collapsing on his bed in exhaustion.  Yamato carefully padded his way down to Daisuke's doorway, sticking only his head inside.

"Is everything okay, Daisuke?" he asked carefully.  He was surprised when Daisuke smiled.

"Yeah," Daisuke scooted further over on the bed, motioning for Yamato to enter and sit, "War is a terrible, terrible thing," he informed Yamato, "But it's nice to win."

"War?"  Yamato questioned softly, wondering what in the world Daisuke could possibly be going on about, but no answer was forthcoming, as Daisuke was sound asleep.

Yamato smiled at the way the drool was already beginning to pool around the edge of Daisuke's mouth.  Whatever explanations there were would have to wait until the next day.  Yamato pulled off Daisuke's socks, dropping them on the floor beside the bed and pulled the covers up around the younger man.  Then, picking up Daisuke's alarm clock, he went to find his brother.

+++++++++++

Daisuke jumped, as he was jolted out of a beautiful dream by his hateful alarm.  Bringing the beastly mechanism closer to his bed, he was shocked to see that it was only 6:00 am.  He never even knew his clock could be set to such an early wake-up call.  What harbinger of unspeakable cruelty could possibly have done such an ungodly thing?

"Takeru!"  It was the first name to pop into his head and Daisuke knew, as only one who had lived with the vengeful blond could, that it was the name of his punisher.  Nor did Daisuke buy the confused look Takeru gave him when he popped his head into the room.  After all, a truly worried Takeru never failed to all but run and jump into Daisuke's bed.

"Daisuke?"  Takeru yawned, "What are you doing up?"

"I was just about to ask you that," Daisuke frowned.

Takeru hummed, "I always get up this early for class."  Takeru's early morning reflexes were good.  He was actually able to duck Daisuke's alarm clock when it was thrown at him.

"Why am **I** up?" Daisuke clarified.

"Daisuke!" Takeru complained, "That could have hit me!"

Daisuke did not answer, continuing to glare at Takeru with steely brown eyes.  Or eyes as steely as brown could be, Takeru supposed.  Finally Takeru shrugged his answer.  Daisuke knew it was his fault and Takeru knew that Daisuke knew.  There really was not much of a point in standing around staring at each other all morning.

"That's really mean," Daisuke complained.

"So is turning my own brother against me," it was still too early in the morning for Takeru to have much sympathy.

"Okay, fine," Daisuke finally conceded, "I'm sorry.  Truce?" Daisuke gave a hopeful little smile, the one he knew worked better on Takeru than any of his others.

Takeru seemed to consider it for a moment before agreeing, "Truce." The old friends shared a relieved sigh.  "What are you doing?"  Takeru asked when, after a big yawn-stretch, Daisuke made to crawl out of bed.

"Getting up," Daisuke offered tentatively at Takeru's shocked tone.  He gave the blond boy a strange look before standing up and stretching again to fully work the kinks out of his back.

"Why?"

Daisuke paused, as if trying to make since of the simple question before shaking it out of his head and walking past Takeru out of his room.

"Where are you going?"  Takeru asked as he tracked Daisuke down the hall towards the kitchen.

"Takeru?"  Now it was Daisuke's turn to question the other boy's strange behavior, "What's going on?"

There was a short pause before Takeru dropped his head and mumbled, "Nothing," to the floor.

"Gooooood," Daisuke answered somewhat unsurely, walking into the kitchen.  He had reached into the overhead cabinet, fingers curling around his final breakfast bar when Takeru burst in on him for the second time that morning.

"Stop!"

Daisuke jumped, dropping the bar and banging his hip against the counter's edge.  "What is IT?" he demanded.  Takeru chewed his lower lip, as if considering just what it was that he was going to tell Daisuke.  "Oh no you don't," Daisuke insisted, "Tell me the truth."

Takeru gave a hurt whimper, but agreed, "Fine."  He picked the cereal bar up from where it had landed on the counter and turned it so that Daisuke could read the label.

"But…" Daisuke looked as if he might cry at not getting his breakfast as expected.

"It's all my fault," Takeru hastened to assure him, "I'm the one who told Yamato to get blueberry."

"Yamato?" Daisuke questioned.  Takeru nodded, biting his tongue to keep from saying what his heart wanted him to say for his brother but that his brain most definitely did not.  Confused, Daisuke frowned, "Wh—"

"I told him that Miyako had taken yours when she was over."  Damn.  Takeru would have to remember to get his tongue removed.  It was for his own good.  When Daisuke's confused look did not change, Takeru continued, "He wanted you to be happy so he got you some more."  Realization seemed to be dawning on Daisuke, never mind it was actually all lies, "So I told him you liked blueberries."

"But I'm allergic to blueberries."  Takeru had never seen Daisuke look more like a kicked puppy dog.

"I know," Takeru answered the disappointed boy, "I'm sorry."  It was almost more than he could handle when Daisuke gave a depressed sniff, "I'll make it up to you, I promise."

Daisuke just nodded, silent in his apparent grief.

+++++++++++

Something about a whole week's holiday made coming back to classes seem that much worse.  Never mind that Miyako had not even bothered to show; making Daisuke have to borrow a pen from some girl he had only ever smiled at twice and spoken to once.  Those few encounters were hardly enough to put them on pen-borrowing terms.

Heretofore, Daisuke would have sworn that no single human being possessed the power to slow time.  He would have been wrong.  As it was, it was all Daisuke could do to keep from letting out an excited whoop when the professor finally announced the class's end.  Returning the un-named girl's pen with his most flowery thank you and sauciest wink, Daisuke set off for home at the quickest pace his almost new dignity-born-of-age would allow.

At the bus stop he briefly considered heading home before foregoing the idea with a derisive shake of his head.  After all, fair was fair and he was not about to let Miyako get away so easily.

It was a short bus ride, easily walkable if one did not feel like wasting the token necessary and before Daisuke was even fully settled, he was already at the stop just down the corner from Ken's apartment.

Wishing that he had remembered to grab a coat on his way out the door that morning, Daisuke hurried down the street and then up the three flights of stairs to Ken's apartment. He had just reached the landing on Ken's level when he heard the elevator chime and who should step out, but the prodigal daughter.  They stared at each other, Daisuke still puffing from hauling it up the stairs and Miyako's face flushed from what Daisuke could only assume was the effect of the day's sharp wind.  It was Miyako who broke off the impromptu staring contest first, making a beeline for her new apartment, unlocking the door and then slamming it shut in Daisuke's face.

Not deterred in the slightest, Daisuke opened the door and let himself in.

"Where were you?" Daisuke asked when he finally cornered Miyako in the kitchen.

"Go away Daisuke."  He would have to be an idiot not to have figured out that something was bothering the dark haired girl.

"Where were you?" Daisuke asked again, a bit more softly, if more insistent.

Miyako finally turned towards him with a growl, "Not that it's any of your business, but I had a doctor's appointment."

"Miya!"

Miyako gave the panicking boy a thoroughly disgusted look, "I'm not dying you idiot.  I'm pregnant."  Daisuke let out a sigh of intense relief.

"Ohhhhhh.  Is that all?"

"Is that ALL?"  Judging by Miyako's tone she did not find the two alternatives so very different.  "Do you have any idea how bad a time it is for this right now? Do you?"  Miyako threw her hands up into the air, shaking her head at Daisuke's obvious ignorance.

"What do you mean?"  Daisuke was through confused, if not a little disturbed by Miyako's reaction to what he would have thought would be good news.

Miyako chewed the corner of her lip, seeming to weigh her next statement carefully.  "Ken quit his job."

"I know."

Flippancy was not high on Miyako's list of possible Daisuke-replies, "What do you mean, I know?" she eyed him narrowly.

Daisuke shrugged, "I know.  He told me."

"When?"

Daisuke flinched at the sharp question.  Somehow he knew this was going to end with him in trouble.  "Just before the wedding…" he answered carefully.

"AND YOU DIDN'T THINK TO TELL ME?"  Apparently his careful answer had not been careful enough.

"He made me promise not to!" Daisuke insisted, hoping to ward off any physical attack. It seemed to work, with Miyako taking a deep breath and pulling out one of the table chairs so that she could sit down, though whether or not it was because of his quick answer or some other reason Daisuke could not be sure, but he never was one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

"He wants to be a private detective," Miyako continued after a short rest, "Did he tell you that?"

Daisuke gave a noncommittal shrug.  Miyako shook her head.

"I want him to have this, I do, but now just is not the time to be chasing after childhood dreams," Miyako paused, looking for an answer from Daisuke but he did not have one.  Miyako sighed, "Unfortunately, Ken is the one person that I can't say that to, the one person that deserves this chance.  I can't let this ruin that for him."

"Then don't," came Daisuke's all too naive reply, "Just don't tell him."  
  


"I can't not tell him," Miyako insisted, "Even as distracted as Ken gets when he's working on something new, he will _eventually_ notice."

"Yeah," Daisuke whispered.  He had wanted to sound sure, like he understood, but he only managed to sound worried.  Miyako must have noticed because she gave him a small smile.

"I'm not stupid, you know," she assured him, "I will figure something out."  Daisuke nodded, thankful that at least she was trying.

"Just do me a favor, Miya," Daisuke requested, "Next time I tell you I don't want you to have sex with someone, listen to me.  Please?"

Miyako could not help herself; she laughed at Daisuke's pleading tone, "Idiot."

+++++++++++

Daisuke stood in the living room doorway; left hand in the crook of his right elbow while his right thumb and forefinger gripped his chin.  He stepped into the room, measuring the distance across with his eyes then stepped out and across to his own room to do the same.  After that it was back to the living room and then Takeru's room.  On his way back, he stopped at the hall closet and sliding the door open, gave the small space a through going over before shutting it again with a sigh and a shake of his head.

Yamato glanced up from his stack of apartment brochures when Daisuke reentered the living room for what had to be the third or fourth time in the last 15 minutes.  "What are you doing?" he demanded.  Daisuke seemed shocked that anyone had even noticed his maneuvers.  He walked over to the couch and collapsed next to the thoroughly confused Yamato.

"How hard, do you think, is it to hide a baby?"  At Yamato's confused blink, Daisuke continued, "I mean, how noisy are they?"

"What are you talking about?"

Daisuke seemed to consider Yamato's question as if it had actually been an answer to his questions, "No.  You're right," he apparently agreed, "How terrible would it be to live with Miyako?  I mean, is that actually humanly possible?"

Yamato thought for a moment, trying to force Daisuke's abstract thoughts into some semblance of meaning, "Miyako's having a baby," he finally concluded, only to have the idea quickly shot down by a humored Daisuke.

"No!" Daisuke laughed, "Can you imagine?  Where'd you get that idea?"  Yamato shrugged, confused more than normal.  He wisely decided to keep his big mouth shut when Daisuke stood back up and resumed his pacing of what was proving to be a very small apartment.

By the time Takeru got home nearly 30 minutes later, Daisuke had resorted to removing all the coats from the front closet in the hopes that it was bigger than it had at first appeared.  Takeru quickly skirted to distracted boy, opting instead to question his brother who now stood in the living room doorway watching Daisuke with ill-disguised worry.

"What is he doing?"

Yamato gave a small shrug, "Either looking for a baby or trying to hide one."

"What?"  When his brother did not clarify, Takeru turned towards Daisuke, "Daisuke, what are you doing?"

Daisuke glanced up from his work, "Trying to see if I could fit a crib in here," he answered matter-of-factly.

"Oh.  Okay," Takeru shrugged, making his way back to his bedroom to drop of his books, "I'll order out for dinner then," he offered over his shoulder to the two who still stood in the hall by the coat closet.

"M'kay," Daisuke answered without looking up.  Yamato followed his brother into his bedroom.

"Is that all?" he questioned, waving his hands in the air, "Aren't you just a bit concerned?"

Takeru regarded the panicking blond calmly, "No.  Its just Daisuke," he assured his brother, "He does this some times."  At Yamato's shocked look, Takeru continued, "Don't worry.  He'll eventually figure out that there's no way he can fit a crib in there and forget the whole thing."  Yamato did not seem comforted.

"You are all crazy!" he declared, storming out of the room.  Takeru shook his head.  

Why did all the lunatics come to live with him?

+++++++++++

Pizza proved to be the perfect antidote from whatever form of acute psychosis Daisuke was suffering from. Barely a minute after the deliveryman had knocked on the door Daisuke had managed to replace each of the coats, if haphazardly, and had joined the two brothers at the table.  Not that that meant that everything was back to normal.  Takeru frowned at Yamato in the hopes that he would notice and stop frowning at Daisuke.

"Mmm, good," Daisuke complimented, completely oblivious to any concerns for his mental health.  

"Yeah," Takeru agreed.  Yamato continued to bite his tongue, opting instead to continue his surveillance of Daisuke and getting a sharp elbow in his side for his effort.

"Listen," Takeru began, hoping to break what was fast becoming an uncomfortable silence, for him anyway, only to be cut off by the shrill ring of the telephone.  

He was standing up to answer when, mouth still full of pizza, Daisuke shouted, "Stop!" The room froze, Takeru with his hand out to grab the phone and Yamato with a slice of what was proving to be very hot pizza half way to his mouth.  They both watched as Daisuke picked up the caller identification box and tilted it so that they could see the number.

"Jun?" Takeru questioned Daisuke's sudden fear of his sister as the telephone continued to ring annoyingly.

"Ken called her," Daisuke hastened to explain, "He said some things. Or rather she wasn't home so he left her a message."

"Like…" Takeru paused.  The phone seemed to have finally stopped ringing, "what?"

Daisuke glanced to where Yamato sat, seemingly so engrossed in the conversation that he had yet to put down his slice of pizza even though the toppings had begun to drip off of the side.  "Nothing," Daisuke mumbled to the tabletop.

All three boys jumped as the phone suddenly started to life again.  "It couldn't have been nothing," Takeru insisted.

"What was it?" Yamato concurred, noticing that Daisuke seemed to have recently become flushed despite the temperature of the room not having changed.

"I don't remember the whole message," Daisuke hedged, hoping that they would be kind enough to let him off the hook.

"What do you remember?" Takeru asked.  Apparently there wasn't a kind bone in that boy's body.

"Ahh," Daisuke's eyes darted to where Yamato sat, still calmly watching him before turning back to Takeru with a pleading look.

"If this involves my brother then I think he has the right to hear it," Takeru stated matter-of-factly, dashing all of Daisuke's hopes.  Takeru reached out to where the phone was still ringing, and picking it up, immediately placed it back on the receiver.  Daisuke flinched.  Jun was not going to like that.  For his part, Yamato just seemed all the more confused.  "Well?" Takeru gave the table an inpatient slap.

"Ken told her that Yamato was," Daisuke sighed, doing his best to think of a nicer way to put Ken's original phone message, something that could be said at a dinner table, "unavailable due to certain...extenuating...circumstances."

"How extenuating?" Takeru asked.

Daisuke's lips twitched, "Very."  He glanced over to where Yamato was still listening intently.

Takeru's eyes narrowed, pinning Daisuke with the overprotective-brother-of-doom look that heretofore had only been reserved for Taichi.  Daisuke was suddenly overcome with waves of empathy for the long-suffering goggle head.  "Explain," came the short command.

Daisuke chewed his lip, trying to gather all of his courage for one big run but having very little success.  Eventually he just let his fingers do the talking, pointing first to Yamato, then to himself and then swirling his finger between the two of them in what Takeru could only guess meant together before dropping his hands into his lap and whispering, "Gay."

"That's what you're worried about?" Yamato interjected suddenly.  Both Takeru and Daisuke seemed shocked by his sudden vocalization.  "That wouldn't upset Jun."

"I don't think you know Jun very well," Daisuke intoned.

Yamato sighed, "No.  Really.  I don't think it'll be that big of a shock.  I mean, unless you..." Yamato trailed off uncertainly.

"No." Daisuke answered, "She knows."

"Well then!  Everything's okay," Yamato stated, turning his attention back to his pizza.

"But..." Daisuke hedged.

"Look if you're worried about her finding out about me, don't be," Yamato explained, "She's known that for years."

"What?"  Takeru gave Daisuke a dirty look for his accidental concurrence.  Apparently he was not yet forgiven for Ken's indiscretions.

"What are you talking about?" Takeru revised, this time alone.

"It's old history, okay?" Yamato did not fail to notice the unfaltering curiosity on either boys face, "Lets just say that Jun was very good at being a rabid fan girl and in one of her more outlandish attempts to make it backstage she happened upon Taichi and I..." this time it was Yamato's turn to trail off delicately.

"She handled it remarkably well," Yamato continued a moment later, "Really.  She's good at keeping that kind of stuff to herself."  The kitchen descended into a silence deeper than any ever thought possible.

Daisuke was the first to break the heavy air.

"EWWWWWW!"  Takeru jumped as Daisuke began to shake his hands like he had accidentally dipped them in spider slime.  "My sister saw you," Daisuke pointed to Yamato, still shaking in horror, "and Taichi having...having...having..."

"_A la flagrante delicto_," Takeru was kind enough to provide for him.

"Thank you Takeru!" Daisuke complained very ungratefully before turning back to Yamato, "Ewwww!"  He was almost obliged when the phone began to ring for the third time that night.   Daisuke snatched the phone off of the hook, giving the room's two other occupants his best keep-quite look. "I will call you later," he promised shortly before hanging up the phone and crashing down into his seat.  The three at the table just stared at each other, dinner forgotten.

+++++++++++

Daisuke lay on his bed, staring up at the knobby ceiling as he began listing the things he currently knew but wished that he did not.  And try as he might, he just could not get his sister having seen Yamato naked years before the thought even occurred to him any lower than number three.  Damn.

Eventually he gave up, and reaching for his phone card and phone and began dialing the long stream of numbers it took to get his preferred rate of three cents per minute.

It did not take long for Jun to answer the phone with a perky, "Hello!"

"It's me," Daisuke responded sourly.

"Daisuke," his sister began softly, "Is everything okay?"

"I don't know, you tell me."  Daisuke had not quite gotten over his resentment of Ken so he might as well take it out on an unsuspecting sibling, "You're the one that wouldn't quit calling."

"Sorry," she apologized, "I got Ken's message."

"So I guessed," Daisuke flinched at his own response.  He really did not mean to keep snapping at Jun, he was just a little confused.

"So is it true?" she asked, "I mean, are the two of you..."

"No."

"Oh."  Daisuke swore that he could feel her itching to ruffle his hair even over the phone.  "Then why would Ken say that?" she pushed.

"Because there is something fundamentally human missing from that man," Daisuke answered just a tad more spitefully than he had planned.  Jun laughed.

"You know we only want what's best for you."

Daisuke wondered when Jun had started including herself in Ken's madness.  "I'm a big boy," he reminded her.

"So is Yamato." 

"JUN!!"  Daisuke nearly threw the phone at the wall.

"What?"  Jun sounded scared, "What is Daisuke? What happened?"

It took a moment for Daisuke to realize that he had made his little trip into the gutter had all by himself.  He could still hear his sister calling to him; no doubt worried he'd been viciously attacked by some random villain.

"Daisuke! Answer me, Dais—"

"Sorry," Daisuke interrupted, "Everything's okay."  At her short intake of breath, he hastened to reassure her, "Everything is fine," there was a pause as he tried to recollect his thoughts, "What were you saying?"

"Daisuke," June questioned softly, "You're acting really weird.  Are you sure everything is okay?"

"Everything is fine," Daisuke reassured her for the third time, "Things have just been a little stressful around here lately."

"So something _has_ been going on." Jun guessed.

Daisuke sighed, "Damned if I know."

+++++++++++

Yamato looked up as Takeru walked into the bathroom, frowning at his brother's indiscretion.  "I'm bathing."

Takeru shrugged, "It's nothing I haven't seen before," he answered flippantly, "And apparently nothing Jun hasn't either."

"Would you drop that?" Yamato asked for what had to be the 10th time since dinner.

"Sorry.  It just wasn't something I was expecting to find out over pizza," Takeru grinned.  The way he saw it, this was premium blackmail information and one could never have enough of that.

"Whatever," Yamato answered perversely, sliding down so that only his head was sticking out of the steaming bath water.  "Are you in here for a reason or not?"

"Actually," Takeru informed, "I'm in here for a very good reason.  Namely, that Daisuke isn't and, in his current state, couldn't bring himself to be even if it was the only way to save you from a dire death."

"Nice."

"I'm just being honest," Takeru shrugged, "I have something I want to ask you."  They both just stared at each other until Yamato finally sat up enough that he could actually speak without his chin splashing in the water.  Takeru took that as a sign that his brother was willing to cooperate.

"What exactly is going on between you and Daisuke?" Takeru shot point blank.

Yamato frowned, first at Takeru and then at the sink just beyond him.  The question wasn't a new one; he had actually asked himself the very same any number of times over the last week, but that did not change the fact that he had yet to come up with a reasonable answer.  He finally turned his attention back to the patiently waiting Takeru with a sigh.

"Damned if I know."

~*~

TBC

Author's note:  I really, really do not understand why I love to torture my boys so, but I do.  There can be no forgiveness for the likes of me.  :)

We are here at last folks, The LAST Chapter.  Only one more left to go.  This may actually have some small hope of being finished before the start of the next millennium.  Small.

[jamalynrascher@yahoo.com]


	7. Yamato, The Hunted

Disclaimer: If you've gotten this far, I'm sure you know that I couldn't possibly be the one who owns Digimon, else things would be very, very different. V.E.R.Y.

** Absolutions 07:  
Yamato the Hunted**

_"A truth, still apparent, though disregarded, that things move violently to their place, but calmly in their place. To put it another way, everything has its right home, the region that suits it, and, unless forcibly restrained, will move thither by a kind of homing instinct." ~ J. Winterson, "Art and Lies"_

_"If it is dangerous to dream, then the cure is not to dream less, but to dream more, to dream all the time." ~ Marcel Proust_

+++++++++++

Daisuke sat on the wooden bench outside of Ken's apartment building waiting for his friend to return home, happy that not only had he remembered to wear his own coat but that he actually had three others to lay over his lap as he wait, two that he needed to return to Ken and the third which he had borrowed from Miyako about this time, three years previous. He wondered idly if she would even remember it. Regardless, if he were going to make his coat closet into a nursery, it would have to be cleared out. He was suddenly startled out of his mental review of ducky and bunny wallpaper as a hand reached out to roughly disturb his hair, nearly knocking him off of the bench in the process; so deep was he into his unaware state.

"Come on Motomiya. Hurry up, it's cold," Ken had already moved past Daisuke's bench and was waiting near the stairwell, stomping and rubbing his hands together in an attempt to keep warm.

Daisuke stood up with a frown, "You now, one of these days this isn't going to be me and you're going to be really embarrassed," he complained, doing his best to keep from dragging one or all of the coats through the half frozen mud.

Ken did not seem concerned by Daisuke's supposition, "Nah, I'd recognize the back of that head anywhere." He had already started to take the stairs in twos before Daisuke had even waddled all the way over to the stairwell. With a sigh, Daisuke tossed the three coats over his shoulder and began to climb after his friend. By the time he made it to Ken's level, Ken was already at his door, waiting impatiently for Daisuke to arrive so that they could both slip in without letting out anymore heated air than absolutely necessary.

"Why do you always leave me behind?" Daisuke questioned at Ken's begging wave.

Ken cocked his head to the side, seeming to consider Daisuke's question, "Because I know you'll catch up all in your own time," he answered softly.

Daisuke stopped, seeming to consider the simple statement, "Wow, Ken that's really—"

"That, and I'm cold. Come on! Come on! Come on!" Ken had taken to bouncing on the balls of his feet in his impatience. Finally Daisuke made it to Ken's door and was all but bodily shoved inside, just in front of Ken.

Ken tossed a manila envelope on the hallway table, "Heat," he murmured, "I've got to move somewhere warmer," he kicked off his shoes, setting them neatly to the side before turning to Daisuke, "What brings you?" 

Daisuke waited until Ken had completely stood back up before shoving the extra coats into his arms so that he could peal of his own, now much too warm, thanks to Ken's over abundant usage of the apartment's heating system. "I came to return your coats," Daisuke answered a moment later, also handing Ken his own coat to hang. "And I wanted to talk to you about Yamato."

"Hmmm?" Technically all Daisuke could see of Ken was his back but somehow he just knew that that questioning sound had been accompanied by a Grinch-like leer.

"But," Daisuke hastened to clarify, "First you have to promise me something," he did not wait for Ken to agree, "No closets, no handcuffs, no ropes, and most of all, nothing Miyako cooked. And yes, that does apply to any combination there of." Daisuke took a deep breath, somehow winded by his own demands.

"Alright," Ken agreed easily. Daisuke narrowed his eyes.

"I mean it." Daisuke insisted

Ken smiled, leading Daisuke towards the relative safety of his living room, "It's a promise."

"Ken," Daisuke warned.

Ken sighed, "Look Daisuke, I've only ever had to resort to my," he paused to consider his wording, "alternative methods for making you talk when you, well, won't. But since you're the one who brought it up, I really can't see where that will be an issue." Daisuke nodded. That seemed logical enough. He allowed himself to be seated on Ken's couch and even accepted the candy he was offered. The two men sat next to each other for several long moments, with Daisuke looking at the various samples of Miyako-influence that seemed to have blossomed about the room overnight and Ken watching Daisuke. Finally Ken's patience wore out, "It might help if you actually told me what you wanted to talk about."

Something about the way Ken had said that, along with his earlier half-promise made Daisuke nervous. "Where were you?" Daisuke asked suddenly.

Ken smiled at the obvious cop-out, "City offices," he informed, "Do you have any idea the kind of paperwork that goes into starting your own business? It's massive," Ken answered his own question, "Now about Yamato," he pushed.

"I just don't know," Daisuke mumbled at Ken's insistence, standing up from the couch and watching as his friend lay down, stretching to take Daisuke's forfeited space. Ken clasped his hands behind his head, continuing to study Daisuke with his patented either-tell-me-or-I'll-make-you-[insert evil cackle]-face, something that had worked so well when they were kids and still worked incredibly well now. 

Daisuke sighed, "Do you think I'll ever find anyone who can love me?" When this question did not receive and immediate response he hurried on, "I mean, could Yamato ever love me? And even if he did, what are the odds Takeru would be okay with it?" He paused a second to shake his head derisively, "Does what Takeru thinks even matter? After all, is there any chance that Yamato will ever really be over Taichi? And doesn't this just prove that I'm a Taichi-wanna-be? And I **know** I'm just being stupid, _right_? Would it be so terribly wrong just to forget all this and not even try? I'm crazy, aren't I," he finished matter-of-factly; never stopping the pacing that he had started midway along his rant.

Ken cracked open one eye, both having drifted shut somewhere about mid-babble, to study his friend for a second and to determine if he really had come to the end of his little tirade. When Daisuke had successfully managed to keep his mouth shut for a full 30 seconds, Ken spoke up tiredly, "Yes, yes, does it really matter, no, yes, don't be ridiculous, no, yes and yes, err, make that last one a no," he finished with a snicker.

Groaning, Daisuke allowed his dead weight to drop back on the couch, barely giving Ken enough time or warning to move his legs from harm. "You could at least pretend to be interested," he complained.

"On the contrary. I have to pretend to be uninterested. Your soap-opera lifestyle never stops fascinating me," Ken smirked.

"_Sarcastic bastard_."

Ken just smiled at the insult, stretching out his legs once more, this time over Daisuke's lap. "Did I ever tell you about when I started dating Miyako?" Ken asked suddenly.

Daisuke tried to think back, shaking his head no before shrugging, "I guess I always figured she tricked you."

Ken laughed, "I guess in a way she probably did," he smiled, his eyes still closed as he remembered, "I remember our first date. I believe I was only fifteen and for the life of me I can't remember why I invited her instead of you but I do remember wondering, 'Oh god, what's Daisuke going to think?'"

"But you found that you liked her," Daisuke continued when Ken paused.

Ken's eyes opened to study Daisuke, "No. Miyako?" he questioned, as if he weren't sure that they were talking about the same person, "She annoyed me. I thought that she was pushy, too forward," he smiled at Daisuke's shocked expression, "But I guess that that is my point. Over some period of time that I can't even define, my perception of her changed. She went from being this rude, materialistic little insect, to someone best described as completely atypical and the things that annoyed me before, I love them because I now see how well the represent the person she truly is."

Daisuke smiled down at his dark haired friend, "So they don't annoy anymore?" he questioned.

Ken hmmed, considering the question, "Well," he hedged, "Maybe sometimes, just a little," the violet eyes flashed open again, "And if you ever tell Miya I said that you're dead!" Daisuke gave a soft laugh at the threat.

"I guess what I'm trying to say," Ken continued, "is that people change as you get to know them. Or rather, your perceptions of them change. Most you begin to wish you knew less. But some," Ken paused to reconsider his qualifier, "—a small some, mind you," yet another momentary pause as he assured himself that his second statement was indeed stringent enough, "—_but a small some,_ you find you want to know even more. And sometimes, the things that you once considered impossible can become the only possibility."

Daisuke nodded, silent for several minutes as he considered what Ken had told him. "Do you remember what you thought when you first saw me?" he finally worked up the courage to ask.

Ken seemed to consider the question for a long time, "Mindless sex toy," he finally answered matter-of-factly, "But you see, I was wrong about the mindless bit."

"Not funny," Daisuke muttered, "I was being serious." Ken just smiled, leaving Daisuke to wander back into his own thoughts.

When he finally broke his second silence, Daisuke was annoyed to find out that Ken had since fallen asleep. He shook the thin man awake with a frown, waiting until he had Ken's full attention before repeating himself.

"So," Daisuke began for the second time, "What you are saying is that if I really like Yamato, you know, like that, then I should keep trying because even if before or even if now is not the right time, that doesn't mean that it won't ever be."

"Yes," Ken agreed.

"And as my best friend, you are going to do everything you can to support me," Daisuke gave Ken his best "look," not that Ken was likely to have noticed as he had once again shut his eyes, "Which includes not actively trying to scare Yamato away."

Ken frowned at the way he was being so obviously railroaded, "I would _consider_ changing my _perceptions_ of him," he agreed, somewhat begrudgingly, "I do not, however, make any promises."

Daisuke smiled, "Good enough," he agreed, "Your promises have never been worth shit anyway," he smirked, "Ouch!" Ken had kicked him and did not seem particularly inclined to apologize, not that Ken had ever been the type to apologize willingly.

"By the way," Ken suddenly broke into Daisuke's old memories, "When is Miya going to tell me she's pregnant?"

Daisuke's head swung around to stare at the resting man, "You know about that? How?"

Ken shrugged, as much as someone completely reclined could anyway, "I saw the box for her test in the garbage," he answered casually.

"Oh," Daisuke considered Ken's easy answer, "How did you know it was positive?" he questioned.

Ken actually opened his eyes long enough to cock an eyebrow at Daisuke's mistake, "I didn't. You just told me."

Suddenly, Daisuke felt very, very ill. "Crap! That's not fair Ken!" he insisted, "You can't tell her I told you. She'll kill me," Daisuke begged. Ken did not seem particularly concerned, yawning at Daisuke's distress.

"Not my problem."

It was all Daisuke could do to keep from choking the man in his semi-sleep. After all, it was one way he could assure Ken's silence. But somehow he could not bring himself to actually go through with his plan. Besides, knowing Daisuke's luck, that would never work anyway. Revenge had always been Ken's forte.

"You know you shouldn't sleep on the couch," Daisuke finally settled on just a sound scolding, lifting Ken's legs like a harbor bridge so that he could stand up before repositioning them back on to said couch, "It's bad for your back." All he got back for his extreme show of control was an incoherent murmur.

Daisuke's hand was already on the doorknob before he heard Ken's commanding chide, "Daisuke. Coat." Daisuke frowned at the half asleep man as he opened the coat closet door with a tad more force than was strictly necessary. He could not wait for summer.

+++++++++++

"I need to talk to you about Yamato."

Daisuke jumped at Takeru's sudden entrance into his room, dropping the textbook he had been reading, the corner of the hardbound book falling just at the tip of his sternum and causing the far edge to land with a resounding whack on Daisuke's chin. Shoving the book to the floor and rubbing both sore spots, Daisuke sat up.

"Owwww," he complained. He could tell that Takeru wanted to laugh, but was holding himself back.

"I need to talk to you about Yamato," Takeru stated for the second time after giving Daisuke enough time to overcome his recent injury, or at least what he thought was enough time. Daisuke might have disagreed.

"What is there to ask about?"

Takeru frowned, "I want to know what you think is going on between the two of you."

"Currently?" Daisuke clarified, waiting for Takeru's nod before continuing, "Nothing."

"Does Yamato know that?" Takeru demanded.

Daisuke looked at his blond roommate strangely, "It was Yamato's decision," he answered honestly, "We talked about it and he kind of shot me down," Daisuke rubbed his head in a sheepish motion, remembering his and Yamato's conversation and the trouble it had caused. Was this a can of worms he really wanted to be opening?

"When was that?"

Daisuke smiled. There were times when Takeru really reminded him of Ken. Both of them processed a single-minded determination that could be frightening, but where Ken's determination spread to all aspects of his life, Takeru's only had to do with his brother, specifically his brother's love life. Daisuke wondered just how that particular facet of Takeru's character had come into being.

"Daisuke!" Takeru's sharp command snapped Daisuke's attention back to the question at hand.

"Before," Daisuke shrugged, "After Miyako's party."

"And since then?" Takeru questioned. Daisuke shook his head no.

Takeru sat down on Daisuke's bed with a sigh, "He's my brother," he explained.

+++++++++++

Daisuke leaned against the living room door frame, watching Yamato as he lay, turning the pages every so often of one of Takeru's books, and completely oblivious to the fact that he was being stalked. Daisuke thought back to what Takeru had said earlier. Was Yamato really as unsure as he was about what was going on? And if so, did that mean that Daisuke might actually have a chance at this that was not years in the future.

Takeru had seemed to think so, but then he had not seemed especially happy about the idea. Daisuke supposed he should be happy that the blond had merely expressed displeasure and not outright forbidden the possibility.

Daisuke sighed, inadvertently drawing Yamato's attention away from his book.

"Daisuke?" Yamato asked, moving into an upright position on the couch.

"Can I talk to you?" Daisuke blinked rapidly, not sure if the reason his eyes felt so strange was because they were too moist or too dry. Regardless, he knew why his heart was racing, almost hurting. He was scared.

Yamato nodded, moving over a bit so that he was not sitting directly in the center of the couch and waited for Daisuke to take his seat.

"Listen," Daisuke began carefully, "I know we already talked about this. But I guess I kind of feel like a couple of things have changed," he glanced up from his tightly clinched fingers to give Yamato a pained little smile, "So I thought I'd ask and if you say no, I promise I'll never ever, ever, ever, ever, EVER, ever, ever…"

Yamato squeezed Daisuke's shoulder, cocking his head to the side to look Daisuke directly in the eyes, "Mmm?"

"…ask you again," Daisuke finished quickly, letting out a relieved sigh.

"Okay," Yamato agreed when Daisuke failed to continue.

Daisuke considered the patiently waiting blond for a moment before standing up from the couch, "You know, on second thought, no. Forget I said anything. I shouldn't have even brought it up."

He made to walk away but Yamato reached out and grabbing his arm, pulled him back on to the couch, not failing to notice Daisuke's frightened skitter when he accidentally landed a little to close. Yamato, however, was not about to let go of his death grip on Daisuke's arm, not even if it meant that he would have to sit on this couch for the rest of his life.

"Yamato?" Daisuke questioned softly. The way that Yamato kept staring at where their knees had touched was really beginning to unnerve Daisuke, that is, if it were actually possible for him to become more unnerved.

"I wish you wouldn't," Yamato spoke up suddenly, spooking Daisuke for the second time that afternoon. Daisuke nodded. If that was what Yamato wanted then that was what he would promise.

"I won't—" Daisuke began, only to be cut short by Yamato.

"I wish you wouldn't," Yamato's hand finally dropped from Daisuke's arm and Yamato frowned at it before folding it along side the other in his lap, "I wish you wouldn't give up on me so easily."

Daisuke watched the now silent man for a moment before leaning his head against Yamato's slumping shoulder. Somehow the quiet request made his heart hurt even deeper. He felt Yamato lean his head against the top of his own. It wasn't anything close to an embrace but somehow managed to be nearly as comforting.

Daisuke breathed in Yamato, so similar to Takeru; same soap, same shampoo, and yet so distinctly Yamato underneath. So deep was he into trying to decide just where that subtle difference lay that he was surprised when Yamato suddenly sat up, straightening his shoulders so that Daisuke had to follow suit or suffer the disgrace of being nudged aside.

"Yamato?" Daisuke questioned softly.

Yamato turned his head to smile at Daisuke's questioning tone, "I found an apartment," he was still smiling but it had yet to reach his eyes, "It's not far from here. Plenty close to the university," he explained, "You can come over when Takeru is on one of his 'No one can make any noise, I'm studying' binges."

"But I don't want you to leave!" For a moment, Daisuke could almost swear that the smile brightened Yamato's eyes, but the flash was gone to quickly to confirm.

"Takeru might disagree," Yamato chuckled half-heartedly.

"So?" Daisuke demanded, standing up to stop his foot, "We'll kick him out."

"Daisuke…"

"No, think about it," Daisuke insisted, "He has study group every Wednesday from six 'til nine. We'll get someone to come and change the locks while he's gone."

That did make Yamato laugh, "I'm not throwing my own brother out of his apartment. Besides, who'd pay his half of the rent?"

Daisuke paused, "Hmmm, good point," he offered a hand to Yamato, pulling him up from the couch, "You'll just have to move into my room."

"Is there room for me and the baby?" Yamato asked, humored by Daisuke's planning.

"Baby..." Daisuke questioned, trying to place what Yamato was talking about, "Baby...Oh!" he suddenly remembered, brushing away Yamato's question with a flick of his wrist, "I was going to put it in the coat closet. But it's okay, Ken figured it out."

"Wha—" Yamato began, but stopped himself. Perhaps there were some things that he really did not need to understand.

"So what do you say?" Daisuke broke into his thoughts, "I'm sure I can fit a futon in my room with out a problem."

"No." Yamato answered matter-of-factly. Daisuke seemed hurt by his outright refusal. "I was thinking," Yamato paused, "that maybe you and I might…" Yamato sighed, "I know I don't exactly have the best track record, but I thought that if you were still interested, then we might go out on a date or something."

Daisuke was suddenly acutely aware of the fact that his heart was attempting to escape his chest. He could only hope that it would not succeed.

"And if that worked out," Yamato continued, "I think it might be best if we each have our own little corner of the world to hide in," he smiled at Daisuke's confused look, "occasionally."

Daisuke nodded, still not entirely clear on what Yamato was saying.

"I'm just not sure I'm ready to do the 24-7 thing yet," Yamato explained, "But I know that I want you in my life as more than just a friend."

"Yama…" Daisuke began carefully.

"If you're still willing to ask," Yamato offered.

"Always," Daisuke whispered, "Repeatedly," he promised. He wrapped his arms around Yamato's middle, bringing the taller boy as close to him as was humanly possible.

As far as Daisuke was concerned, it was indistinguishable from fairytale. He had just had a tall blond grant his wish. Now all that was left was the faultless kiss to seal the deal, and Yamato seemed to be following his script perfectly. He leaned his head forward ever so slightly, waiting for Daisuke to tilt his head up and slightly to the side. His eyes were heavily lidded, just a sliver of blue and black showing behind long lashes.

A perfect storybook romance.

That is, until the phone began to ring and would not stop.

Yamato stepped back with a small smile, "You should probably get that."

Daisuke fought the urge to scream. "I hate my life!" he declared, snatching the phone from the wall, "What?"

"Evening, Daisuke," came Ken's all too chipper voice. If Daisuke did not know better, he would have sworn that Ken had planned the whole damn thing.

"Ken, do you mind?" Daisuke asked as calmly as could be expected, "I'm kind of busy right now."

Ken did not seem too bothered, "That's okay. I wanted to talk to Yamato anyway."

Daisuke sent a questioning glance towards the man who had returned to his earlier spot on the couch before turning back to his phone conversation with a sigh, "I think you're missing my point."

"No, I'm not."

Daisuke nearly screamed, "Not now Ken," he begged, "For the love of god, not now."

Ken was obviously not too impressed, "Oh please." Daisuke could almost swear he could see Ken rolling his eyes. "If you were that far along you wouldn't have bothered picking up the phone. Just put him on," he repeated his request.

That was too much! "What is it about me that makes you think I'm such a –" Daisuke broke off suddenly as he realized how intently Yamato was listening to his half of the conversation. Not that Ken had not known him long enough to finish Daisuke's thoughts.

"History?" Ken offered up his opinion with ill-disguised humor. At Daisuke's growl, he continued, "Since it's obviously _not_ an issue, just put him on."

What Daisuke wanted more than anything else in the world was to put the phone back on its receiver, but somehow, the knowledge of how Ken would respond to such a dismissal kept his hand hovering just above death. After a second's more battle with himself, he held out the phone to Yamato with a sigh, "It's for you."

Yamato gave him a strange look, but walked over and took the phone. "Hello?" he asked carefully. Daisuke watched Yamato's expressions through out the short telephone conversation. Best he could tell, it was Ken that was doing all the talking and Yamato was fighting to either keep a straight face or keep from crying. Either way, Daisuke had the sickening feeling that hell was about to break loose.

He hated his life.

"That was Ken," Yamato offered after he hung up the phone. At Daisuke's nod, he continued, "He's, ah, placing a moratorium on any relationship we may or may not be having until he gets to speak with me."

"His words?" Daisuke asked.

"Yeah," Yamato agreed, shaking his head carefully as if he were trying his best to figure something out, "Have you had him speak with anyone?" Yamato asked carefully, "A professional?"

Daisuke just sighed. "Wouldn't work. He's much too far gone."

"Yeah," Yamato repeated himself, nodding. He looked to Daisuke with a small smile before walking over to get he coat from the hallway closet.

Daisuke watched each of his movements with intense worry, "You're going over to Ken's?" Yamato just nodded, too intent in pulling on his coat with out causing his shirt sleeves to ride up to notice the nervous way that Daisuke kept chewing on his lip. "I'm going with you."

His insistent tone did catch Yamato attention, "What? Why? Its just Ken." Daisuke frowned. Obviously Yamato did not have the first clue about what he was dealing with. Daisuke, on the other hand, had years of practice. He knew when to be scared out of his mind.

"I'm going."

Yamato shrugged, pulling Daisuke's coat off of its hanger and tossing it in his direction. After all, he had no intentions of arguing over something so silly. Besides, as much as he would never admit to Daisuke, he really would rather the other boy was there. 

"I do have one question," Yamato waited until Daisuke had finished tying his shoe and stood up before continuing, "Its stupid really, so you don't have to answer. But it's been bothering me."

"What is it?" Daisuke asked carefully.

Yamato sighed, his hand resting on the doorknob as he considered his words, "How does one go about dating his mortal enemy?"

"Well," Daisuke shrugged, seeming to think, "Ken has always been incredibly adept at diversions."

+++++++++++

Daisuke watched Ken's apartment building grow larger and larger with a distinct feeling of dread. They were just even with the front edge when Daisuke suddenly stopped.

"Daisuke?" Yamato questioned when he realized two or three steps later that he had lost his companion.

Daisuke motioned the man over to where he now stood, reaching out when he was close enough to grab both of Yamato's arms. He gave the well-padded man a squeeze before sighing, "Just promise me one thing. If Ken tries to corner you in a room or any other enclosed space, then yell, scream or cry, anything to get my attention. I'll come immediately. Okay?"

Yamato laughed, if somewhat nervously, "Daisuke, you're really starting to scare me," he smiled at the shorter man, "I mean, come on, this is Ken we're talking about. I've seen the guy weep over a squished caterpillar."

Daisuke was not nearly so confidant. "He likes caterpillars."

"Are you saying he doesn't like me?" Yamato's question was met with complete and total silence. Even the world seemed to have momentarily paused when it heard such an audacious question asked. "Whatever," Yamato finally concluded for himself, taking Daisuke by the hand and all but bodily dragging him to the stairwell, "What's Ken's apartment number?" he asked for the fifth time that afternoon.

"Forty-two," Daisuke answered begrudgingly, no longer being forcibly dragged forward but not walking towards his fate with open arms, either. He was a little relieved to have Miyako open the apartment door. A little relieved, but not much. Somehow she seemed just a tad too happy to see them.

"Hey, Yamato," she smiled at the older man, seeming to ignore Daisuke, not that Daisuke minded.

"Where's Ken?" Daisuke finally worked up the courage to ask after they had come inside and stripped out of their coats, all without the dark-haired man appearing.

Miyako shrugged, "I think he stepped out," she motioned them both toward the living room, "You needed to see him?" she guessed.

"He wants to talk to Yamato," Daisuke frowned. For his part, Yamato just held his tongue; content to allow the other two the chance to hash out whatever it was that seemed to be going on.

"Oh," Miyako seemed surprised, "Ohh-ohhhh, okay. I get it." She sent an understanding sort of smile in Yamato's direction, "Don't worry. There's nothing to be worried about."

"Why would you say a thing like that?" Daisuke demanded, hands fisted at his hips, "He's got enough on his mind as is!"

"Actually," Yamato interrupted the impending fight, "Everything's fine. Really," he persisted at Daisuke's unsure glance, "I not worried." Miyako smiled at him before turning her attention back to Daisuke.

"Well! Since that's settled, could you, um," she paused pointing back towards the other end of the apartment, "There's something you might want to see." She gave Daisuke a knowing kind of look before turning to Yamato, "That is, if you don't mind," she asked the calmly waiting man.

Yamato shook his head no, tossing a hand in the air to indicate his indifference. Daisuke did not seem as convinced.

"I don't know," he hedged.

Yamato rolled his eyes. "I'll be okay. Honest." 

It did not look like Daisuke was going to agree but he finally seemed to cave a little, "Okay," he decided, "But remember what I told you. Promise?"

"Yeah." Yamato's chuckle did not exactly fill Daisuke with confidence, but if the man felt that he could defend himself, then Daisuke was willing to trust him, for the time being anyhow.

At Yamato's promise, Miyako grabbed Daisuke's hand with a little hop and a giggle and began dragging him back toward the apartment's spare bedroom, "You are going to _love _this!" she promised.

"What is it?" Daisuke asked, excited in spite of himself. He did not even complain when she shut the bedroom door, unintentionally closing them off from the rest of the apartment.

"Patience," Miyako insisted, getting down on her knees to pull a bag out from under the low bed, "Ken doesn't know I know about this, but I found it yesterday when I was cleaning," she explained. She pulled out a flimsy, almost shimmery looking teddy, and holding the straps at her shoulder began to do a dance that resembled, in Daisuke's opinion anyway, what a hippopotamus would look like if it were trained to do the hula.

"What do you think?" she asked.

Daisuke blinked rapidly, trying to let as little of the mentally damaging imagery make it to his brain as was possible, "No offence Miya," he began carefully, "But you're not really my type."

"No, stupid!" She tried to hurl the brown paper bag at him, but it was too light to make it any further than about half way to Daisuke, "Do you recognize it?"

Daisuke studied the piece of lingerie carefully. It was blue, he never chose blue and a good deal strappier than he would have liked, he rarely wanting to picture Miyako with less than a nun's habit covering her body. "No," he answered carefully.

Her grin all but split her face in two, "That's right," she winked, waiting for Daisuke to put all the pieces together. It was not long in coming.

"You mean he—" Daisuke started. 

Miyako nodded excitedly. "Well, unless he's got a new best friend to buy his lingerie for him, I'd say we have a winner."

Daisuke laughed, pausing to give the diaphanous material a critical look before informing Miyako of the awful truth, "Don't take this the wrong way," he began, none too delicately, "But that will swamp Ken." He used his hands to indicate first the width of the teddy's waist and then what he believed Ken's to be, much to Miyako's disgruntlement. She snatched a clock from the bedside table and hurled it at his head, only missing by a centimeter or two.

"You!!" She pointed a shaky finger in his direction.

Daisuke quickly stepped up to wrap her in an apology hug before she could find something else to throw at him. "Congratulations, Miya," he offered sincerely enough.

It must have worked, because she relaxed, smiling, "Congratulations to you, too," she gave him an extra little squeeze before standing on her tiptoes to whisper in his ear, "And if you _ever_ tell Ken something I told you not to ever again, I will not only kill you; I will chop your body into tiny pieces and dump it in the river. Understand?"

Daisuke skittered backwards, frightened. He nodded his head, relieved to see her smile return a second later.

"Good boy," Miyako complemented, her grin a little too similar to Ken's for Daisuke's comfort, "Now," she glanced at her watch for conformation, "You might want to go see about Yamato. Ken's had him for a good five minutes already."

Daisuke watched as his world began to crumble. "Damn."

+++++++++++

"So this is your room," Yamato commented, looking about. He could say that he had been surprised to see Ken walk into the living room not a minute after Miyako had spirited Daisuke away, but that would have been a lie. To be honest, he had found the entire situation obvious and was surprised to see Daisuke tricked so easily.

Ken followed Yamato glances about the bedroom, nodding his agreement. "Yes?" he prodded when Yamato did not expand upon his first statement.

"Oh, nothing," Yamato shrugged, "I guess I just imagined something darker," he ran his fingers over one of the two lampshades hanging over the headboard of the bed, "perhaps with chains." His fingers brushed through the beaded fringe before he pulled them back.

Ken shrugged, arms crossed over his chest, not willing to acknowledge Yamato's insinuations, "Miyako likes pink."

Yamato smiled at the all too unflustered man, "I see. You wanted to talk to me?" he asked.

Ken sighed, seemingly considering his options. Eventually he glanced up at Yamato with what almost appeared to be a friendly smile. "Listen," he began carefully, "All this stuff about me being mean and all," Ken paused, rolling his eyes as if what he were saying was beyond ridiculous, "It's really just an act. I mean, a lot of people have the wrong impression just because of that whole Kaiser thing. But I was young and I honestly did not realize how serious the consequences of some of my actions were going to be," he gave a noncommittal shrug, "I guess that what I am trying to say is this: if I had it all to do over again, I'd do quite a bit of it differently."

Yamato nodded slightly, giving himself a moment to take in the short spill before responding, "I know that Ken."

"Good," Ken answered shortly, "Because Daisuke really likes you, and our having an open and understanding friendship would really make him happy. **_But,_**" he pierced Yamato with his best glare, "That being said, if you so much as inconvenience Daisuke, I will hurt you."

"I can live with that," Yamato answered easily, earning himself a narrowed look, "I mean, no," he clarified a second later, "I'm not saying everything is perfect, or for that matter, ever will be, but I do believe that Daisuke and I can be happy." His look challenged Ken to contradict to him, "Both of us."

Ken looked as if he wanted to say something but was biting his tongue, and so long as he did not choke on it, Yamato was sure that Daisuke would forgive him. Both men continued to stare at each other, arms crossed, eyes narrowed, in a bedroom with more flounces than any one bedroom should ever possess.

Ken was the first to break the long, heavy silence, "I _will_ be watching you," he informed Yamato dangerously, "Frankly, I have reservations about even allowing Daisuke to date you."

"Allowing?" Yamato repeated the word as if he was not quite sure that he had actually heard it spoken.

"He was mine first." If Ken had intended to sound forceful, he had fallen far short. Yamato sighed, fighting the urge to squeeze the younger man's shoulder.

"No offence Ken," Yamato gave a small, almost understanding smile before his face fell to neutral once more, "But he's mine now." Ken's eyes narrowed until they were little more than slits of ice and Yamato was actually worried momentarily that he might have just crossed some invisible Ken-line, but then, just as suddenly as the anger had arrived, it seemed to drain away.  
  


"Fine." Ken dropped into the nearby overstuffed chair that had been pushed cattycorner against the wall. Yamato took that as his own cue, flopping on the bed with a small, tired, "Umph." He lay on his side, continuing to study Ken as he rested.

"What is it?" Ken asked, noticing Yamato's small smile.

"Oh, nothing," he shrugged, rolling over onto his back and noticing for the first time the canopy of the bed, "I've just never seen the great Ichijouji Ken slouch."

"Shut-up," Ken frowned, but there was little force behind the words. Yamato smiled again.

"Mirrors," he commented dryly, "That," Yamato wiggled an eyebrow at his reflection and watched it wiggle one back, "I should have expected."

Ken just shrugged, "A man cannot live on pink alone."

+++++++++++

"Ken! Open this door! I mean it Ken, open it right now!"

Yamato groaned as Daisuke began his banging again, "Aren't you going to let him in?" he asked Ken, who did not seem to be having any difficulty ignoring Daisuke's commands.

"You want to let him in, you get it," Ken shrugged, "It's not like it matters anyway."

"It doesn't?" Yamato questioned, more than just slightly unsure that Ken was telling him the truth.

"Nope," Ken glanced towards the door when there came a not so subtle scraping sound, "He'll just take the hinges apart," Ken informed as the entire door suddenly came away from its jam and they were presented with the heaving form of an out of breath Daisuke.

"Yamato?" Daisuke looked about the room frantically, ignoring the unimpressed looking Ken sitting in the corner.

"Have you seen this?" Yamato asked, pointing up at the canopy mirrors. Daisuke rushed over to where the blond man lay, making faces at his self in said mirrors.

"I knew I should have gotten a more traditional apartment," Ken groused, "Maybe then you wouldn't always be taking my doors apart." He was completely ignored.

"Are you okay?" Daisuke asked Yamato breathlessly. Yamato grinned up at the panicky man.

"Of course. Have you seen this?" he repeated the question again.

"Yes." Daisuke answered shortly.

"I think it's kind of cool."

"I like it," Ken interjected.

"Ken!" Daisuke was feeling very short-tempered and he really could not handle Ken's insinuations at the moment. Ken raised both hands in the air in a surrendering gesture before pushing himself up from the chair.

"Fine," he conceded, "I'll leave the two of you alone." He rolled his eyes, walking out of the room, only to pop his head back in a second later, "That's _my_ bed," he reminded them both before leaving once more. Yamato laughed.

"Are you really okay?" Daisuke repeated his question as soon as Ken was out of the room. Yamato reached up, running a hand down the side of Daisuke's face with a smile.

"Really," he brushed a curl away from Daisuke's eyes only to have it come flopping down again almost instantly, "You worry way too much. Ken's a pussy cat." Yamato patted the space next to him, "Besides, it's hard to fear a man with a pink bedroom."

Daisuke dropped down, picking up one of the smaller throw pillows and giving the lacy edging a frown before he tossed it onto the chair that Ken had been sitting in, "Yeah, well, I still wouldn't let him hear you call him that if I were you," he informed Yamato. Yamato did not seem overly worried.

"You ready to go home?" he asked, pulling himself up into a sitting position next to Daisuke. Daisuke glanced up at the mirrors above Ken's bed with a shudder.

"Yeah," he agreed, "Home."

+++++++++++

"No, no, no," Takeru complained, "Now explain this to me again. You are saying what?"

Daisuke frowned, "Unexpecting isn't a word."

"What?" Takeru asked for what had to be the fifteenth time.

"It isn't a word, Takeru," Daisuke answered as patiently as he possibly could.

Takeru was not buying it, "If it isn't a word, then why isn't my word processor showing the error?"

Daisuke let out a frustrated sigh, "I don't know," he grumbled, "Did you right-click ignore?" Takeru gave a sheepish sort of grimace and it was all Daisuke could do to keep from shaking the boy senseless.

"Fine," Takeru eventually conceded grudgingly, "I'll change it. But that doesn't mean I agree."

"Well if you don't want my suggestions why did you ask me to read it?" Daisuke demanded answers from the blond boy.

"Because I need someone who was there to check it for me!" Takeru answered, sounding every bit as aggravated as Daisuke.

"WHY?" Daisuke reached out to shake the monitor rather than Takeru only to get slapped on the back of his head for his extreme effort at control, "It's a complete work of fiction. This isn't how any of it happened!"

That was going too far. Takeru's mouth worked open and closed for a moment as he formed is irrefutable and outraged defense, "Is to!"

"Is NOT!"

"IS TO!"

"IS—"

"Children, children, please," Yamato interrupted the quickly erupting fist fight, "How am I supposed to pack when I can't even hear myself think?"

"It's Takeru's fault," Daisuke mumbled at the floor.

"My fault!?" Takeru sounded beyond surprised, "How is this my fault? You're the one that can't remember what really happened."

Daisuke's mouth flew open, words threatening to flow out, that is, until he caught Yamato's humored smirk, at which time it snapped back shut. "Okay, fine," Daisuke agreed, a little too easily, "Let Yamato read it. He can decide."

"Yamato?" Takeru's eyes narrowed, "Why Yamato?" he asked suspiciously.

"He was there," Daisuke responded innocently, "He'll be able to settle this." He stepped back, motioning for Yamato to step up to the computer monitor, "And I guaran-damn-tee that he'll tell you Gennai never looked like a Jedi night," Daisuke whispered none too quietly to Takeru.

Yamato stepped up to the computer, quickly scrolling up to the top of the screen and then using the arrow keys as he read his way down. After several minutes of reading, he pushed himself back upright with a sigh.

"Sorry, Daisuke," he frowned, "That's exactly how I remember it happening." Takeru gave a happy little smirk.

"Exactly," Yamato continued, shaking his head, "And this," he said point to a line of dialogue, "Is where Gennai goes, 'Gommamon, I am your father.'" He turned to Takeru with a serious look, "You accidentally left that out," he informed before grabbing Daisuke by his wrist and all but dragging him out of Takeru's room and away from his brother wrath.

They could hear Takeru's frustrated, "ARGH!!" all the way down the hall.

"Really Daisuke," Yamato complained, pinning the younger man against the wall, "You've got to be more sensitive. Writers are temperamental creatures." He gave the laughing red head a quick kiss and a wink before whispering, "And Takeru's a vindictive bastard." Yamato pushed himself away from the wall and Daisuke, giving the latter a quick rub on the head, "Play nice."

Daisuke laughed as the blond playfully sashayed away. Play nice indeed.

+++++++++++

_He sat next to the man in the brown derby. Somehow it did not matter if the grass were a little wet, he was still comfortable and somehow, he knew, he'd stay that way, so long as he had his company anyway._

_The trees were blooming and the air was warm, something he was exceptionally glad for, as he had no intention of ever requiring a coat in his dreams. _

_Or, rather, nightmares. Cold dreams should always be classified as nightmares, he decided._

_He smiled at the man. Do you think, he asked, that we might someday see the waves?_

_Of course, the man answered._

_When?_

_Someday. The man was smiling, he just knew, because, for once, vague meant soon rather than never._

_Daisuke smiled._

+++++++++++

The End.

Author's Note: Well, I thought I would be beyond happy to see the end of this fic, but strangely enough, I'm actually kind of sad. :) It's been lots of fun.

For those of you still wondering, Ken was upset because Daisuke stole his favorite candies and left the empty wrappers in Miyako's luggage. I know, I know, my beta likes to fuss at me. What I call subtleties, she calls gaps, together we refer to them as artistic differences. And yes, I do have questions about the demise of Fluffy as well, but I doubt that they'll ever be answered because, lets face it, would you tell Ken you killed his plant? :) I think not.

Please review!


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